


Grand Gestures

by adelheida



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Eventual Romance, F/M, Grand Gestures, Kaiba Seto Has Issues, Kaiba brothers, Post-Anime, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, Trustshipping - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, bisexual kaiba, dapper mokuba, ishtar siblings, misguided grand gestures, past-prideshipping, pegasus is a third wheel, romancing the beat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 78,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelheida/pseuds/adelheida
Summary: What do you do when you're a ridiculously successful CEO of a gaming company with an unrequited love for a long-gone Pharaoh, have a teenage brother who has more dating experience than you and a burgeoning crush on a ridiculous older woman whose worldview completely opposes your own?You low-key listen to your brother's indirect romantic advice and try to impress your crush with grand ceremonies. Kaiba style.An indulgent romantic comedy featuring trustshippingChapter 14: Shoes and Perfume“Hmm.. at this rate we might find ourselves unable to meet for a while,” Isis frowned. “ Getting to Domino takes 18 hours or so from Egypt.”He had  to make time for her. He wanted to make time for her.“You’re forgetting who you are talking to here, Isis.” Seto gave Isis an arrogant grin. “ I have a Blue-Eyes White Dragon jet that goes at five times the speed of a commercial aircraft. It took me less than half a day to fly to Egypt with an eyeball.”“You’re not suggesting I get myself one, are you?” Isis deadpanned.“Not quite. Though get a pilot's license just in case.” He mirrored her delivery.
Relationships: Ishizu Ishtar/Kaiba Seto, Kaiba Seto/Yami Yuugi
Comments: 74
Kudos: 48





	1. His and Her Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first month of the last year of the twentieth century, almost a year since Atem's departure, and Isis and Seto find themselves in new normals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first attempt at a multi-chaptered fic based on a tumblr prompt and Gwen Hayes' Romancing the Beat outline. Also, my first trustshipping fic, inspired by the small but dedicated collections of trustshipping fanfics, art and comics I found in the past six months. This takes place post-anime but borrows the manga timeline for the dates. This fic starts January 2000 ish with Atem leaving around March 1999. Isis is 22, Seto is 19, Mokuba is 14. 
> 
> Inspired by this lovely tumblr post:  
> https://headlessknight.tumblr.com/post/26110152535

Isis, a former interpreter of serendipities and fate, indulged in a whimsical fantasy of fated chance encounters with familiar faces in unexpected places. Of course, the probability wasn’t always high, but she figured that her chances would be slightly higher in an airport as she sat near her flight's boarding gate, finishing a homemade meal of vinegared vegetable salad with rice that she managed to convince airport security to allow her through. It was a small comfort before having to travel on a 20 hour direct flight to Japan. Not particularly looking forward towards the cold January winter.

Taking another bite of her meal, Isis pondered who could fill this role for a chance reunion. It would be shocking to see her brothers. Marik was away with some of his motorcycle friends embarking on stage 1 of the Dakar-Cairo rally. Rishid was in Alexandria, attending the wedding of a very good friend he had made near one of the excavation sites the Ishtar brothers were consulting for. While Isis continued her role as the Secretary General of the Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities, her brothers did consulting and translation work and the workload had been particularly busy in the past couple of months. She was glad that the two of them were starting the new year taking a much-needed break.

Perhaps instead she would encounter an old colleague or a friend from university. Perhaps she could meet other attendees of the curators’ conference in Domino City. Maybe another fellow guest speaker?

Before she could catch herself, her hand unconsciously went to her neck, still missing the cold weighted sensation of the tauk even a year after the Pharoah’s return. It was a habit that she developed from her time of wearing the necklace that refused to subside. She remembered the times she would use it for mundane things like chance encounters to make sure her plans to get her family back were flawless and well-executed. While she was glad that her immediate family was restored and the end of living in the shadows for her Tomb Keeping Clan, she would be dishonest if she didn’t admit that she sometimes missed the connection she felt to a greater force in the universe, inaccessible to fellow humans. No longer did she have access to the memories of the past or foreseen events of the future, making the innate almost instinctual connection she had with Ancient Egypt suddenly non-existent. Because of this, it was easier for Isis and her brothers to move forward towards new paths. Having a different relationship with their ancient heritage that was more consensual and liberating rather than oppressive and obligatory.

_Maybe I should get a new necklace?_

There were some in her extended family who were having trouble adjusting even now, especially the stricter ones. The time of the Tomb Keepers needing to wait for the Pharaoh's return had ended with Atem’s return. It made the frequent family gatherings, an effort to reinvent and reestablish the family...frustrating, to say the least. Communicating to the elders that they didn’t have to do some of the outdated traditions anymore even tested Rishid’s stalwart patience. What perhaps was even more difficult is that there was an unspoken expectation that Isis specifically was supposed to do a lot of the hand-holding.

Isis took another contemplative bite of her meal. Enjoying the way the vinegar dressing cleared her thoughts as it cleared her palette.

Her eyes turned to the silent TV screens showing a financial news segment, hanging from one of the pillars near her row of seats. Her eyes caught a familiar name on the scrolling closed captions that hovered over the side bulletin covering the Y2K crisis.

_"Seto Kaiba is rumoured to announce Duel Disk 2.0 S soon. Experts predict a 5% increase in profits for Kaiba Corp this coming financial quarter, especially given Kaibaland Macau's opening later this year."_

Although it was not in person, the mention of his name felt like it met the bill for fated encounters at an airport. A subtle smile appearing on her lips at the memory of a young man who ultimately helped her save her family despite no intention to do so.

She did think about him from time to time, sometimes wondering if he ever was going to take her invitation to reach out to her if he wanted to know more or still had questions.  
Of course, that was like Seto admitting a lot of things he was not ready to admit despite believing them. These days she remembered his angsty melodramatic denials of his fate with mild amusement at how predictable and very Seto they were.

Except, he wasn’t always so predictable. He did teach her to not be so fatalistic in a very Seto way. If there was anyone in the world she blindly trusted, it was Seto. His obstinance and general confidence in his intelligence and abilities to make his own destiny were the reasons why he was able to create a bright future she thought impossible.

_“The video of Kaiba announcing an exciting expansion to the Kaibaland USA has been finally released by the company, generating continued interest for fans new and old alike.”_

Her usual resting intense gaze softened at a hilariously theatrical video clip of the man, the legend announcing a new attraction at his theme park with a signature jetpack entrance and an opulent display of fireworks. Although the TV was on silent, she could already hear his arrogant and textured voice as he dramatically points one finger towards the sky announcing something with barely veiled condescension, daring the audience to defy the great Seto Kaiba.

_He seems to be doing well..._

If Isis were honest, she found his general arrogance and boldness quite charming, especially since he had the qualities to back up such a bold reputation. But then again, Isis had a healthy amount of experience directly confronting arrogant men in power and her rise through the government ranks was largely aided by her ability to, as Marik once eloquently put it, “to speak asshole”.

_Seto’s insults are almost endearing._

Isis’s thoughts were interrupted by a boarding call and got up from her seat and gathered her stuff as she walked closer to the gate.

 _Maybe I might see him again._  


* * *

If Seto were honest with himself, Mokuba’s transformation from adorable younger brother to a teenage Casanova in the making was a bit of a curveball. He knew, he and Mokuba, while related by blood and shared many interests, were fundamentally two different people from the moment Mokuba was able to tolerate Yugi’s group of cheerleaders more than Seto was able to. And yet here Seto was a bit taken aback by Mokuba’s casual remark that he was going to go on a date this Saturday afternoon.

“No Seto, not a study date. A date-date. With a girl form class I met at a birthday party I went to last month.” Mokuba corrected with a wry grin as he lounged on the office couch facing Seto’s desk, reading his thoughts, even as he tried to act nonchalant as he continued to type away at his laptop.

“I see,” Seto replied after a while. He felt like he was supposed to say something, give advice on the way of the heart or some other nonsense he once overheard his secretary babble on her cellphone while offering the person on the other end romantic advice. Of course, usually, one had to have some level of experience and Seto “I don’t have time for people who waste my time” Kaiba realized that his younger brother had beaten him in getting his first date. Not that he thought it was something to compete about, of course, it was just a blatant reminder of how much Mokuba was growing into his own.

“You don’t have anything to say, big brother? Mokuba questioned as he sat up in mild concern. He knew Seto would be a bit surprised, what he wasn’t expecting was downright silence.

After a few more moments of concentrated typing, Seto paused and turned in his chair to face the large windows behind his desk. Taking in the view of the vast sea of night lights of the city before he spoke.

“Of course, we did plan to take a field trip to Kaibaland Macau before this Saturday.” Seto’s tone had an underlying sternness to it.

“Yeah we can do that next month, rem--”

“You’re not shirking from your responsibilities are you?” Kaiba’s voice was cold as ice.

“No big brother, if you let me finish. Remember the memo from construction that they are dealing with some pipeline issues and had to get new permits for? It would be a waste of time to go this week since it will look like two weeks ago.”

“...”

And then a recovery: “Don’t you want to test the new VR ride one more time?”

Mokuba sighed, “No Seto, that ride’s a bit too childish for me.” Mokuba stood from the couch dusting off non-existence specs of his white suit. “So I am finally allowed to go on this date, yes?”

“You don’t need to ask my permission,” Seto replied curtly.

“I do if you scheduled a work thing.”

Seto sighed. “ Fine yes, take the Saturday off.”

“Thanks, bro! Don’t work too hard.” Mokuba skipped off towards the door before stopping midway to turn to his brother with a cheeky grin. “You know, you could also take the day off. Maybe you can find a date as well, you know take a chance and meet new people?”

Seto responded with the iciest of glares.

“I kid, I kid!” Mokuba raised his hands defensively before promptly exiting the office with a hurried but audible “but not really!”.

Seto made a displeased sound before returning to his laptop to look over the final production details for his updated Duel Disk System to get his mind off of Mokuba’s vibrant social life. He was by no means jealous just experiencing growing pains from Mokuba growing up. Sometimes he had a hard time expressing his displeasure of having to make time for Mokuba in a way that also involves friends he has no stake or connection with. Kaiba is a busy man and if he had to spend moments with people who he didn’t enjoy without any gain for the company or reminded him of his dislike of human interaction, then he was not afraid to express how little he thought of the people he was forced to hang out with.

There was a large list of things Seto was not able to admit, which included not being able to admit that he felt lonely because Mokuba had other people he spent his time with. And he didn’t even care to know who these new people were. At least he knew Yugi and his gang of geeks.

Seto pondered on Mokuba’s joke of his needing to get a date. Mokuba would be the person to know that he isn’t some cold-hearted person incapable of love. He’s just very very selective about who he felt comfortable showing a warmer side of him.

He thinks of the absurd image of Mokuba preparing to send out a large pile of nengajo cards weeks before the new year. Some of which he had asked Seto if he could co-sign which he resigned to do but appreciated that Mokuba didn’t test him by asking his assent to send a card to Jonouchi. Although agreeing to send a co-signed card to Yugi felt a bit different knowing and seeing that he duelled two souls inhabiting the body of a Japanese teenager. He didn’t talk about it much, but he often secretly cherished the few moments he and Yugi shared in Egypt after Atem had left forever. There was an unspoken mutual understanding of the shared pain of missing someone who touched their lives so profoundly.

Seto had seen the card he got from Yugi a week ago. It was one sent especially for Seto. His message, though standard, held a very Yugi like earnestness and warmth to continue their friendship. He had actually taken the time to send one back after the New Year, wishing him the same. Although their friendship didn’t stop him from thinking about Atem whenever he looked at him.

Seto would never admit it, but he really missed Atem’s presence and the dynamic they had during duels. Duelling Atem gave him a certain rush and _joi de vivre_ playing duels that he could never quite recreate. Missing the rivalry between their two strong personalities made him almost want to go against a personal aphorism of not looking back. He almost wished he said something that might have convinced Atem to stay or even sneak in a card in his deck so he could have won.

Seto growled in mild frustration and ran an annoyed hand through his hair to only run through it again to smooth out. _I’m thinking about useless things again._

If he were a more emotionally intelligent Kaiba, and one more comfortable with vulnerability in the way that Mokuba was clearly going to be at this rate, he was afraid of feeling something like that again. Atem’s departure had left a deep impression, he rarely called it a wound, but it left an impression nonetheless.

At least where family and blood are concerned there is this unconditional loyalty. But even that seems to be tenuous at times. _I’m being silly here._

Of course, why should something this trivial bother the great Seto Kaiba? At age 19, he was running a large mega-corporation. He fulfilled his brother’s and his dreams of creating a brand of successful theme parks. Yeah, he didn’t play Duel Monsters as much these days on the professional circuit but he still maintained a status of a Duel Monsters legend and somehow even tolerated being second to Yugi. He even tolerated Pegasus in person, as they had recently discussed the technology of the new Duel Disks.

It was when Seto started to realize, there are a lot of people in his life who he “tolerated”.

His cell phone rang with the pixelated letters on his phone’s outer screen displaying the name of a familiar and annoying business partner.

“Kaiba-boy! How are you? Hope this finds you quite well…”

“Yeah, yeah, Happy New Year and all that nonsense. What do you want Pegasus?”

A knowing chuckle from the other end.  
“Well nine days after New Year’s seems a bit odd to still be wishing it but I suppose it’s your roundabout way of being civil.” Seto was losing his patience. Pegasus sensed he better get to the point but continued in his usual flamboyant and jovial tone.

“Well Kaiba-boy, I am simply calling to offer you an invitation to this black-tie event I am sponsoring at your local museum this Saturday. There is a curator’s conference in town that I, owing so much of my life to Egyptology, felt obliged to sponsor. We thought it might be a nice time to catch up.”

“Good for you. And the answer is--Wait who is we?”

“Aha, it seems I have caught your interest! I was having dinner with Isis this evening, you remember Isis, yes?”

Seto cooly responded with practiced ease as he continued to type things with one hand.  
“Yes, that ridiculous woman, how could I not?”

He heard a faint giggle under Pegasus’s amused chuckle as he seemed to be talking to someone else in his company. “ Did you hear that? He really does always calls you ridiculous woman!”

_Oh._

Seto felt strangely embarrassed that she heard his quip from Pegasus despite having said it in so many iterations to her face already. It’s been a year almost since Egypt and he had seen his Ancient Egyptian past with his eyes. Clearly he must have sounded silly especially to her. _Why do I care about the opinions of a woman I haven’t talked to in almost a year?_ Especially one whose company always left him some degree of annoyance or perturbance, particularly at her ability to get under his skin somehow.

He thought he heard a faint, “same as usual isn’t he?” from Pegasus before returning to the phone to address him.

“My invitation is still open Kaiba-boy. I’ve even taken the liberty of sending someone from my team to deliver the invitation to Isono.” _I better tell Isono to rip up that piece of paper._ Kaiba was about to decline again, but his refusal stopped in his throat when he heard her calm and familiar voice.

“It would be lovely to catch up Seto.”

_I forgot she’s one of the few people who call me by my first name._

He remembered just how irritatingly ridiculous this woman was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The Dakar rally in 2000 was the Dakar-Cairo rally in 2000. You can use the dates of the first stage to figure out when this chapter took place.  
> **I didn't think the Secretary General of Supreme Council of Antiquities was the actual title of the position and the department because it sounded hilariously excessive...but it was until 2011. It's now the Ministry of Antiquities.  
> ***According to the tumblr post this fic is inspired by, in the Japanese version of the manga and the sub, Isis starts calling him Seto rather than Seto Kaiba or Kaiba, when they duel in battle city. You wouldn't know this unless you looked at old fan translations of the manga or watched the sub. Let's be honest, the sub and the manga have more trustshipping subtext and it is deliciously fun.  
> **** Nengajo are like Christmas cards except for Japanese New Year. Because Christmas in Japan is a glorified romantic holiday whereas Japanese New Year is the big celebration of the year.


	2. Flirting with the Past Around the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto and Isis reconnect at a gala and a familiar dynamic returns effortlessly.

The black-tie affair was a chance for the Domino City Elite to mingle with the finest minds curational sciences could offer. After all, the arts and culture were another means to acquire and exert power. At least that is what Seto told himself as he nursed a glass of champagne wearing a fitted tux, feeling a bit out of his element. While not unfamiliar, having been exposed to these kinds of things under Gozoburo, he remembered why he tended to avoid these kinds of things in the first place.

The small talk.  
The brownnosing.  
The people he had to deal with.

He observed the well-dressed crowd schmoozing away among ancient Egyptian artifacts and took another pensive sip of champagne.

There were positives to these kinds of things as well. Mostly they involved being around people who reminded him that he was the great Seto Kaiba. He was not above admitting that the power trip he got from his mere presence and his ice-cold stare in such an elite crowd fed his enormous ego wonderfully. He was into it. 

“Seto!” Kaiba turned to see the approaching figure of his younger brother, surrounded by a small group of friends his age.

“Mokuba. I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you had..” Seto briefly glanced at the group of his friends, unsure if he was dating more than one person in his squad of teenagers. “I thought you had other plans today.”

“That was just in the afternoon big brother. Keiko,” Mokuba pointed to one of the girls in his group as she gave a small nod. “Keiko wanted to really go to this event but the tickets were sold out and didn’t want to go alone. So I decided to use my connections to bring my whole squad. The more the merrier!”

Seto tried to keep a straight expression and politely nodded at his group of friends that he was finally beginning to recognize now. He made a mental note to remember--Keiko was it? Although why would a fourteen-year-old want to go to this bore-fest and had the means to buy a ticket to this kind of event was beyond Seto. But then again, Mokuba did go to the international school with rich kids insisting that the Japanese education system was a bit rigid to his tastes…

“Anyways big brother, we’re going to check out the chocolate fountain. Pegasus said he had hired a pretty famous chocolatier for the dessert table.” Clearly, Mokuba was having fun spending time with friends his age as they laughed and joked as they disappeared into the crowd.

_I should go find Pegasus and Isis. They’re the ones who insisted I come anyway._

Seto began walking towards the crowd but was then stopped when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Seto Kaiba.” He could already hear the mild smile on her lips that softened her usually intense gaze even before he turned around to face her.

“Isis Ishtar.” Not that he was expecting much change in less than a year’s time, but he could not move his eyes away as he gave a once over her form. She had decided to forego her signature cream coloured dresses with one with a modern cut in an alluring dark green that brought out the colour of her eyes. The gold hair coils and ornate beetle brooch being the only jewelry she wore.

“How have you been, Seto?” Isis stepped closer adjusting her sheer dark green scarf over her arms and shoulders, taking a sip of the glass flute she held in her gloved hands. Kaiba noticed the kohl around her eyes had a mild shimmer to it at this proximity.

“Can’t complain.” He shrugged nonchalantly and took a sip. “You?”

“I have been well,” Isis replied. “It’s been almost a year since we spoke last.” He noticed a speck of stray glitter shimmering on her cheek as she turned her head to look at the ancient artifacts displayed under glass. He followed her gaze and saw the collection of small wooden figures resting in open coffins.

“Nhm” he replied wordlessly, understanding that she was alluding to the more morbid circumstances of their last meeting. Isis turned back to return to his gaze. Her sombre demeanour turning into a warmer one.

“How auspicious for us to be meeting again here of all places.” Seto sneered at her choice of words.

“I would say coincidence. But you know how I feel about these sorts of things.” He hid the smile almost threatening to develop on his lips with a sip of his drink, eyes still gazing at her face. He almost felt...elated?...that the comment made her lips curl slightly upward.

“I suppose if we concurred on topics such as these, it would be most mysterious.”

“I wouldn’t call it mysterious. Mysterious is how you managed to get access to my direct line and convince me to take time out of my busy schedule to attend your, what was it you said ...private exhibition?’”

“Seto, the answer to that is quite simple, actually.” Isis brought a gloved finger towards her throat. Her hand stopped midway as if she almost forgot she no longer wore the tauk.

“Your necklace predicted my contact information?” Seto replied skeptically. Isis let out a small chuckle.

“Yes, I suppose one could say that. It was more complicated than that of course, but you will forgive me for being so bold. I had to get the attention of the Great Seto Kaiba.”

“Yes, your shrewdness did you well. The God Card certainly didn’t hurt…”

“Although if I do recall, it was the most difficult of tasks to explain what a God card was...and its relation to your ancient past.” He could hear the challenging tone in her voice matching her intense gaze, daring him to use his standard rebuttal even now. Returning with his own intimidating stare, the two were in a standoff.

“It sounds ridiculous even now.” Seto’s intense gaze was unwavering.

“Well, I thought you would have had some more questions after visiting the world of his memories.” The mention of him made Seto almost lose the intensity of his stare. “I’m surprised you did not reach out for more answers. I did offer an ear.”

“Because I had better things to do!” Seto replied curtly. _Because I was not ready._

They continued their glares for another few moments, later interrupted by the silence of the live musicians abruptly stopping their music to accommodate a speech by a conference figure-head. Shortly after, the crowd politely clapped as another member took their place on the podium for another speech.

“Mokuba seems to be having fun.” Seto almost didn’t hear her as he was still coming down from the adrenaline of her previous indirect challenges.

“Mhm, yes.” he tried to make his voice a little less hostile.

“He’s got quite the group of friends there. He seems to be growing into his own.”

“Yeah.” Kaiba was not sure how this woman was pushing all of his buttons. Isis briefly glanced at Seto’s displeased expression before returning to look at Mokuba and his hoard.

“Seeing younger brothers change and grow into their own person is both a gift and a curse.”

“Curse?” Seto scoffed and turned to look at Isis. _And everyone thinks I’m the dramatic one._ “Seems a bit melodramatic.”

Isis turned to look back at Seto before clarifying. “Curse in the sense you might end up wishing for things the way they were because your relationship with your younger brother is transforming into a new unfamiliar dynamic.”

“Sounds like you have personal experience…”

“Yes, indeed. Although my brother’s entry into teenagehood involved acts of rebellion that threatened the safety of our world.” Isis remarked frankly.

Kaiba let out an amused sound. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you had a great sense of humour, Isis. Quite the deadpan you got there.”

Isis smiled, “Then perhaps you don’t know me as well as you do, Seto.” She took a sip from her glass with mirth shining in her eyes.

* * *

“Apologies, Seto. If I hadn’t been pulled aside by others after my speech, we could have caught up more.” Isis buttoned her coat as the two headed out of the museum.  
Seto shrugged as he walked beside her descending the many concrete steps of the museum entrance towards the crowds of well-dressed gala attendees waiting for their rides back home.

“Although, it’s a shame Pegasus was so busy. It was his idea for the three of us to catch up. He did not even get to say hello’.” Isis pondered as she took out a wristwatch she had in her bag to check the time. A well-dressed man with a clipboard approached Isis informing her that her taxi had arrived. Isis turned to Kaiba to say her goodbyes for the night.

“Well, Seto. It was lovely catching up. I do hope our paths cross again. Please feel free to reach out anytime.” She gave a slight bow of the head which Seto returned wordlessly. Isis then followed the clipboard-man towards a black car.

He watched as her car drove away before finding his limo and entering it.

“How was your evening Mr. Kaiba?” Isono called out to Seto as he instructed the limo driver on how to exit the area. It was a formality, of course, Isono having accompanied Seto in many of these types of events to know his boss was not afraid to express his disdain for them. He, however, was not prepared for Seto’s response.

“Interesting. It was... interesting.”


	3. Turning Interesting into Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With some indirect and even unintentionally coaxing, Seto contemplates trying something new.

Sunday brunch was a new tradition that Mokuba had insisted they do after a school trip to San Francisco. As with the thriving social life and the dapper outfit change, it was the influence of his international school for sure. Seto went along with it, despite finding most of the items a little too sweet for his liking, because it was for Mokuba. The cooking staff always delivered with an enticing brunch spread to satisfy Mokuba’s high standards. Tucking into his eggs benedict, Seto was glad to see Mokuba so content as he indulged in the many types of jams he spread on his fresh waffles. 

“You know Seto, the chocolate parfait was pretty good yesterday.” Mokuba pulled out his portable digital camera. Knowing that Seto was never one to approach the dessert table if he had a choice, he clicked through photos of friends eating the parfait at the gala to show his brother.

“Top ten?” Seto asked after looking at the photos. 

“Hmm...not quite.” Mokuba took a pensive bite into a jellied piece of bread. “The one we had in Rome is still my favourite.” 

“What did...your friends..think?” Seto was trying to ask Mokuba about his friends more. He seemed to appreciate that Seto cared enough to ask about his friends when he never even asked him to do so. Mokuba’s eyes slightly lit up. 

“Oh Nancy definitely hates it, she’s not a fan of dark chocolate. Pytor definitely likes the contrast in layers but said it still needed something extra. Chandra said she was allergic to chocolate and had to pass. Abdou says the one he had in Paris was better. Juan said was the worst thing he ever tasted, which I think he’s just saying that to be _that_ guy...” 

“What did Keiko think?” Seto asked recalling the face of one person in his group. Mokuba seemed to light up even more. 

“Keiko loved it as well but we couldn’t agree if we like the cardamom that they used in one of the chocolate ice cream scoops. To be honest, it’s interesting but a little too much for me initially. But then Keiko convinced me to give it another chance and she ended up being right.” 

“She sounds rather worldly,” Seto commented. Seto was starting to think that Keiko was some sort of sophisticated older woman in her mid-thirties rather than a very privileged fourteen-year-old. 

Mokuba laughed, “It’s funny you say that Seto, I was teasing her on our date yesterday with the same exact thing!”

_Ah. Right. My little brother is dating someone._

_He officially has more dating experience than I do at age fourteen._

“How did you manage to get a date?” Seto realized that he had said that out loud. Mokuba too was also shocked that he even asked. But then the shock turned to mild embarrassment as he scratched the side of his face with a finger to hide it. 

“Well, Seto...we were just friends first. But then, we would start talking and realized we really enjoyed each other’s company. And then one day I knew I just had to tell her and I had to do it in a way that impresses her more than my competition. So I got her a signed first edition of _Si Longue Une Lettre_..” 

_Well at least this date is improving his usually godawful French pronunciation._

“That’s why you asked Isono to contact people in Senegal to find a silly book. ” Seto deduced, remembering the frantic call a while back to borrow the private jet to go to Senegal over a weekend. 

“Hey! Mariama Ba’s novella is a West-African feminist masterpiece!” Mokuba explained this in a tone that told Seto that Mokuba understood what this meant even less than Seto. “The signed copy impressed her enough to go on a date with me yesterday.” Mokuba raised his hands for emphasis. 

“Seems a bit extreme,” Seto was still not convinced, raising his teacup to take a well-timed sip. 

“Yeah, well depends on the person. Like if you wanted to woo someone like Isis--”

“Why would I want to woo someone like Isis? ” Seto said perhaps a little too quickly almost spitting out his tea. 

“I’m just saying hypothetically, Seto! I just saw her at the gala yesterday and just thought of her, trying to think of women closer to your age for an _example_ ” Mokuba exclaimed already familiar with Seto’s negative opinion on Isis. 

_Clearly he was too busy to notice I spoke to Isis yesterday._

“Go on,” Seto said cautiously.

“If you wanted to woo someone like Isis, you have to think of something...impressive. Worldly women need worldly...what’s the word they use in America...grand gestures? Yeah, grand gestures.” 

Seto raised a questioning eyebrow. _Where the hell did he get all these romantic ideas? It certainly wasn’t from me._

“It needs to leave an impression” Mokuba emphasized. 

* * *

After his nightly routine and another glance through his email and business news on his laptop, Kaiba settled down at a prompt hour to get his regular 5 hours of sleep. Unfortunately, sleep would come a bit later as the vibration of his cellphone rang. _Pegasus._

With a resigned sigh and perhaps feeling in a generous mood, he reluctantly answered with a less hostile grunt. 

“Kaiba-boy! I wanted to send my apologies for not chatting at the gala.” Pegasus’s cordial tone always made Kaiba a bit suspicious given their past history. “I didn’t want to interrupt.” 

“You didn’t want to interrupt?” Seto sighed, exhaustion blunting his usual sharp tone. He held his phone while resting his head on his pillow, eyes already closed. 

“Of course Kaiba-boy! The stick shabtis display was clearly not as engrossing as the conversation you two were engaging in.” 

_Those wooden figures in model coffins._

_Oh._

The realization that Pegasus had seen them but decided to not “interrupt” and said so in such a coy way was enough to make Seto sit up straight and be very awake. 

“Pegasus...you clearly have something to say.” Seto’s voice was a bit rough from sleep and irritation. “Spit. It. Out.” 

Seto could hear the smirk of victory in Pegasus’s teasing voice. “Nothing at all Kaiba-boy. Just that Isis is always lovely company.” Then in a more hushed tone as if telling an intimate secret: “She even told me she enjoyed talking with you. She regrets not forwarding her contact details.” 

Seto isn’t sure why, but his heart rate picks up a bit as he hears the last part. Clearly from a buried implication threatening to be unearthed. _Quick, say something or Pegasus will get ideas._

“Look why don’t you tell Isis, I already have her information from a year ago.” He said it assuming that like last time Isis was somehow on the other side of the phone. 

Pegasus gave out a giddy chuckle. “My my, you will be disappointed to know that our friend Isis is already on her way back to Egypt. She and her brothers have moved into a lovely new place you see. They’re quite excited about a new chapter in their lives.” 

“Huh. Good for them, I guess.” Seto vaguely remembering some story Mokuba told him about how the Ishtar clan lived underground for millenia...and his “past self” had something to do with it. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about some of his ancient past self’s decisions.

“Well... I’ve just forwarded the new info to your personal email. I’m sure Isis won’t mind my doing this.” Pegasus let out an affected or bored yawn to signal the end of the call. “Well, goodnight Kaiba-boy. See you at the duel exhibition~” 

Kaiba managed a reluctant but polite good night back before lying back down on his bed in contemplation. He felt like he had to do something. 

Five minutes later he is sending Isono a message about an upcoming Kaiba Corp event. 

* * *

“Isis, I got our forwarded mail from our old place,” Rishid called out from the entrance of a newly built house as he removed his shoes before entering. Isis walked towards Rishid as he handed her a small bundle of letters tied in twine. “Taia commented that a lot of people wanted to contact us.”

“Thank you, brother. I will send our cousin my thanks. These will take some time to sort through for sure.” Rishid responded to Isis’s statement with a grunt. 

Marik joined his siblings by the entrance bringing a duct-taped cardboard box in his hands. 

“This is the last box from the storage unit. Once we get more furniture in, we can start organizing this place.” He emphasized his sense of accomplishment by lightly throwing down the box towards the corner with others. 

Coming back from their separate breaks in January, the siblings were slowly transitioning into a new chapter of their lives. The Ishtars find themselves moving into an impressive newly built home they had just purchased. After years of saving and working together, the three formerly estranged siblings were finding themselves and their sense of family again and decided to use a portion of their savings and family fortune to buy a home to grow together in. Healing and writing a new chapter for themselves. Whether their relatives in the other Tomb-Keeper clans understood this or not ...well, it was a work in progress. 

“Oh, I forgot!” Marik exclaimed as he shoves his hands in his pant pockets before pulling out an envelope. “I found this in our mailbox. It seems like someone who knows our new address.”

Isis took the small plastic square floppy disk looking thing and examined it. As soon as she saw the KC logo she had a small suspicion it must be from a familiar face. She flipped the envelope over several times trying to find a way to open it but found a button instead and clicked it. The square opened up its hidden flaps, to expand into a rectangle with a small hologram projection of what looked like a formal invitation to a Kaiba Corp event. 

‘ _Subject: Special Guest Invitation for Kaiba Corp Event 2000’_

“That Kaiba always did have a flair for the dramatic” Marik deadpanned as he saw the holographic KC logo float in space. “Seriously, an email would have sufficed. We do have those in Egypt.” Marik rolled his eyes. 

Isis, ignoring her brother’s sarcasm, continued on reading the actual message in more detail. The letter was dated January 11th, 2000. _That’s not so long after I left Domino City._ ‘ _On behalf of Mr. Seto Kaiba, Kaiba Corp Ltd, Duel Monsters Gaming Division would like to formally invite Madame Secretary-General Isis Ishtar of the Supreme Council of Antiquities to attend this year’s Kaiba Corp conference, in partnership with Illusion Industries….’_

“Are you going to go, Isis?” Rishid asked. “It seems he invited you specifically.” 

“Actually it appears I can bring two guests with me.”

“Count me out. I’m still not ready to get back into Duel Monsters.” Marik still referred to his past misdeeds and crimes in vague ways in casual conversation, partly to not bring the attention of any new investigations by the authorities, partly to not confront the fact that his evil half straight-up murdered a lot of people. “I still don’t want to have to be doing anything Duel Monsters related...at least for a while longer.” 

“I think I will pass as well.” Rishid echoed Marik’s sentiments. Isis looked between them both as they waited for her decision. 

“I feel bad for not wanting to go either. I think this might be a peace offering. A way to be civil perhaps?” Isis remembers the small talk at the gala from a few weeks ago and recalls he wasn’t as unpleasant as he had been in the past. But then again, fondly remembering the circus freaks comment: _the expectations weren’t that high, to begin with._

“Ha!” Marik scoffed. “Just say you are busy.” Marik gestured to the boxes and unorganized things in the room. “Not inaccurate per sé.” 

“Hmm...maybe I should go....” Isis trailed off still unsure. 

“Isis!!! You don’t have to deal with that asshole anymore.” Marik pointed at the invitation for emphasis. “He may be the reincarnation of the pharaoh that created the Tomb-Keeper clans, but we no longer have to be a part of that!” 

“Yes, but that is the very reason why I feel uncomfortable not accepting this rare olive branch from him,” Isis frowned a bit while weighing her options mentally. 

“If you can call it that…” Marik rolled his eyes again. 

“We should decide on this later. We need to eat first. My friend Ahmed’s mother in law made us homemade koshari.” And with Rishid’s suggestion, the two brothers headed towards the kitchen while Isis stayed back a bit longer, getting lost in the scanning lines of the hologram projection as she held the floppy disk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone remember what a floppy disk was? It's wild that we still use the symbol of it for the save function in so many programs.
> 
> Koshari is 19th Century Egyptian dish of rice, lentils, macaroni with spiced tomato sauce influenced by Italian and Indian cuisine. Today it is considered Egypt’s national dish and a popular street food.


	4. Three out of Five Blue-Eyes White Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a baby step to try his hand at grand gestures, Seto invites Isis to a Kaiba Corp industry event. Isis is none the wiser.

The bustle of the crowd settled down once the theatre lights started to dim. 

_ It appears to be starting. _

The background of the stage was composed of giant screens with the largest being in the centre. They all display the iconic KC of Kaiba Corp. 

Seto Kaiba walks onto the stage with a confident stride, wearing his signature flamboyant white overcoat. The crowd erupts in applause and cheer.  _ Is this supposed to be some kind of performance?  _ The longer Kaiba stands observing his audience, the greater the number of people in the crowd decided to give Kaiba a standing ovation for existing.  _ Why are they standing? He hasn’t even said anything yet.  _

Kaiba makes a motion with his right hand, and the crowd instantly quiet down and sit back in their seats _. What a stage presence. _

“For years, card games were played on mere tables. People would decide the winner of battles and the title of King of Games on mere pieces of wood. Imagine, card games on tabletops!” As Kaiba spoke with disdain, the screens began projecting a European painting of well-dressed gamblers playing card games.  _ What’s wrong with card games on tabletops? _

“Many tried to re-imagine these games but they all failed.” The crowd verbally echoed their agreement. 

“And then...came along my revolutionary CUBE project” The crowd clapped with excitement. The picture now showed the Blue-Eyes White Dragon appearing on a tabletop surrounded by a glass cube with projectors coming out of its dark metal frames.

“My Solid Vision technology allowed Duel Monsters to turn into the spectator’s sport it is today and single-handedly contributed to the mainstreaming of the game into a billion-dollar industry.” The crowd’s applause was now layered with excited cheers. Kaiba seemed to pause to take in the praise.  _ I wonder what Pegasus would say to this. _

“But we did not and could not stop there. We had to do better. We had to go  _ bigger _ .” 

A beat. 

“So we  _ did _ .” Kaiba’s arrogant tone was accentuated by his smirk and hand wave towards the screen behind him as it displayed a picture of the large duelling decks of yore with an even larger projection of the blue eyes white dragon. The crowd got even louder.

“If Kaiba Corp were any old company, we would have been satisfied with just that. But we are no ordinary company.  _ We _ are Kaiba Corp.” People in the crowd whistled in agreement. 

“And then in 1997, Kaiba Corp changed Duel Monsters forever. We made it was it is today in Japan and the world: a cultural phenomenon that will last for decades to come.” Kaiba crossed his arms and raised his head with a smirk on his lips. “In 1997, Kaiba Corp announced the release of the Duel Disk System.” The crowd cheered and applauded fervently as the visuals changed to a photo from a street duel battle from Battle City tournament. 

Kaiba walked to the centre of the screen and stood with his feet apart and his arms slightly splayed out as if welcoming a challenge. “And today I am happy to announce the release of the new Duel Disk 2 S.” The audience gave a loud standing ovation.  _ All this for another duel disk? What happens to the old one? It looks nicer, I suppose.  _

As the standing ovation continued for several more minutes with the sounds of whistles and cheers and flashes from cameras getting lost in the crowd’s applause. Kaiba stood on the stage, soaking up the open praise. 

_ I suppose I should be flattered to be invited to this. _

Isis politely stood up and joined the standing ovation, though her clapping was much more reserved yet respectful. For a brief moment, Isis swore she saw Kaiba eye her in the crowd but he continued to graze the theatre basking at the reaction to his company’s announcement.  __

* * *

At the Duel Disk launch party, he managed to spot Isis chatting with two female attendees wearing press badges around their necks. The contrast between their Japanese corporate attire and her familiar beige dress with a patterned collar made it easy to spot her in the dimly lit room with booming music. 

“Ishizu, it is really lovely to see another woman at these kinds of things. It’s also lovely that you speak Japanese so well!” the younger of the two journalists beamed with excitement.

“Ah you’re making me blush,” Isis smiled and put her hand to her cheek for emphasis. “I did do consulate work in Japan a couple of years ago. I had to make sure my Japanese was perfect. But likewise, working in the government, I rarely do get to interact with female staff. The pleasure is all mine. ”

“I have been working in tech journalism for years, but as you can imagine the field is so male-dominated. The only reason why a young staff reporter like Fujiwara-san was allowed to attend to represent our newspaper is because I vouched for her.” The older journalist explained. 

“Ah yes, it does help to have a woman higher up the chain of command to vouch for you doesn’t it? ” Isis nodded with the two women in agreement. 

“Ishizu, Fujiwara-san, Shimatani-san, good evening.” The three women turned to see Kaiba’s towering figure beside them. They returned their greetings before opening up room in their circle to allow him to step in. Fujiwara desperately tried not to look so nervous while the other two’s polite yet confident demeanour did not change. 

Shimatani spoke first. “Kaiba-san, our newspaper sends its thanks for inviting us to such an exciting event. We look forward to sharing the announcement on tomorrow’s front page. I appreciate your PR staff putting a word to have us specifically.” Kaiba nodded in acknowledgement, vaguely remembering Mokuba signing off on some HR memo of changing Kaiba Corp’s work culture to be more gender-inclusive or something like that. He couldn’t remember if it was another idea inspired by Keiko.

Shimatani continued, “Ishizu was just informing us that you had worked with the Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities a few years ago.” Before Seto could think of a response that was polite and said as little as possible of a very bizarre period of his life, Isis stepped in. 

“ Yes, the partnership, although quite brief, has made us..” Seto briefly noted the smallest of pauses as she contemplated the right word. “Acquaintances. Duel Monsters has kept us in the same circles over the years.” Seto was satisfied with the answer. The press does not need to know the weirder details of ancient pasts and connection to a three-thousand-year-old pharaoh he and Isis shared. __

_ I have to ask her… _

Luckily the younger journalist saved him the trouble of asking. “Ishizu, what did you think of the new Duel Disk? I read somewhere that Duel Monsters is actually a re-creation of a game from ancient Egypt.” 

“Ah yes so you are familiar with the origin of duel monsters,” Isis perked up a bit, clearly impressed that someone was interested in the past. “Yes, they are similar to artifacts we found a while back. It was only recently, once we found the tomb of the--a Pharaoh from the eight dynasty, when we were sure they served as ceremonial duel disks.” Seto recalled the ornate metal arm accessory Atem had used in the Millenial world. 

_ She didn’t answer my question. _

“Ishizu, I hope you enjoyed this KC event,” Kaiba interjected as he looked down at her. Isis turned to look up at him as if trying to search his face for something. She then politely smiled and replied. “It was nice to be invited to such an event Seto. Thank you.” 

Seto wasn’t sure how to interpret this but he felt his heart skip a beat a little. He then thanked all three for coming and politely excused himself before being invited into another circle. 

* * *

On the limo ride back home, the Kaiba brothers reflected on the successful event. 

“The press seemed to be impressed. I’d give it three out of five BEWDs.” Seto groaned at the acronym Mokuba gave for a rating system based on his beloved Blue-Eyes White Dragon. Though the mediocre rating of the event did not go unnoticed. 

“Only three?” 

“Well, I did overhear some comments that the Duel Disk 2 S wasn’t as newsworthy as the update on Kaibaland Macau. I suppose because it isn’t a new device even if an improved one.” Mokuba scratched his bare chin with thought.  _ So does that mean it didn’t impress her? _

“What did Keiko say?” Seto mentioned Mokuba’s precocious girlfriend not because he cared about her opinion, but to ask his little brother for indirect romantic advice. 

“Oh Seto, Keiko wasn’t at today’s event,” Mokuba teased. “To be honest, I'm not so sure if she would like it. It’s fun for game nerds and tech-heads but it isn’t Keiko’s thing.” 

“ I see.”  _ Does that mean Isis didn’t like it? She seemed to be enjoying it, especially the company of other people who attended.  _ “I guess we’ll have to try something new, then,” Seto concluded. 

“Something new?” asked Mokuba.

“For our next event.” 

“For PR you mean?” 

Seto paused briefly before replying. “....Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was the beginning a parody of an Apple Event? Yes.


	5. Always Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto invites Isis to watch card games on an even more elaborate blimp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a long chapter but it was fun to write.

The high-speed winds, while relentless, were the least of the guests’ worries as they watched from their tiered seats. They looked on with bated breath as they observed two top regional Duel Monsters finalists summon holographic beasts while dramatically hurling insults and attacks to the other’s life points. 

There was playing card games on a flying blimp and then there was _this._

The stage on which the duel took place was made from a bridge-like structure that connected two parallel blimps. _What did Jonouchi call it? Two blimps connected by a boomerang with a dinner plate attached to it?_ The viewing party sat on bleachers on both blimps, almost circling the duelling arena. The guests were able to hear the pithy dialogue and sound effects from the duel despite the turbulent winds due to Kaiba Corp’s patented noise-cancelling earphones.

Certainly, the crowd was in awe at both the fantastical light show and the sheer duelling prowess ( _there are far too many new rules now_ ), but the adrenaline-pumping fear that one might witness one of the duelists being jetted off and plummet to their deaths added a truly one of a kind experience allowed by mountains of paperwork that only a Kaiba could afford. 

“It’s moments like this when I think I figured out Kaiba-boy’s kink.” Pegasus, who sat next to Isis, adjusted the right earpiece with an elegant hand as he spoke. “There’s elements of fear play, methinks.” Isis blinked a couple of times a bit stunned before turning to Pegasus with a raised eyebrow. 

“What?” Pegasus turned towards her and chuckled after seeing her bemusement. 

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Pegasus flippantly dismissed. “I just sometimes get bored at these kinds of things. Deducting inner secrets of larger than life personalities are something Cecilia and I used to do at extravagant parties we were dragged into going to.” 

At the mention of his late-wife and the admittance of boredom, Isis’s expression softened a bit and she gave a subtle smile. “You’ll have to forgive me, the word kink only recently reached my English vocabulary after Marik explained it to me and Rishid a couple of weeks ago over lunch. At an outdoor cafe in Beirut in really loud Arabic as we sat next to an elderly couple, at that. I pray they didn’t understand our Egyptian dialect.” 

Pegasus laughed as he clapped his hands. “The younger siblings are always the more adventurous ones. Undoubtedly Marik is exploring his... _preferences_.” 

“Although, as his older sibling, I prefer not to know the intimate details of that area of his life. I still like to see him as my younger brother, even though he is a young man now,” Isis confided before she saw a mischievous glint in Pegasus’s eye. 

“You know,” Pegasus’s head moved an inch closer to Isis’s. “Kaiba-boy over there is Marik’s age…” Pegasus nodded towards Kaiba, who stood with his arms crossed near the lower level of the bleachers in front of them. His back turned as he observed the duel with Mokuba by his side. 

“Why yes, he is. Although, to be honest, I forget this constantly. He’s petty and childish at times certainly, but his high competence and the way he carries himself is...admirable.” Isis watched as Seto gave a couple of orders to his black-suited men.

“ _Oh_?” Pegasus was intrigued, he was not expecting this delicious insight from Isis so easily. Isis caught the lilt in his voice and frowned. 

“Please tell me you are not discerning my kink as well.” 

“I’m j--” Pegasus was interrupted by the sound of Isis’s cell phone ringing. Isis apologized and headed to a more secluded area to take the call. 

* * *

_She’s still not here._

Seto walked through the exhibition afterparty looking for Isis. He had noticed that she had left before the duel had ended, which did annoy him, perhaps more than he cared to admit. His hurried stride was interrupted when he nearly collided into a figure sporting a familiar hairstyle

_Ate—_

The figure turned to face Kaiba holding a plate of selected hors d'oeuvres from the food table in front of him, his face becoming wide-eyed in recognition. 

“Yugi.” _Of course, it wasn’t him._ Kaiba nodded politely. “Long time no see.” Even though Egypt happened a little less than a year ago and they had bumped into each other briefly a couple of times after that, it felt like he hadn’t seen Yugi in person in years. Kaiba noticed his usual baby-face had slightly hardened by becoming sharper, his figure taller, his shoulders wider and more solid. Yugi looked a lot like him and yet…

“Kaiba!” The voice made Seto’s heart flutter. _When did his voice get so much deeper?_

The gentle aura of the man before him reminded Seto of the absence of another. “It’s good to see you.” Yugi gave Seto a warm smile.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Seto cordially replied.

“What’s it been like, a year?” Yugi said scratching his face with his free hand. “It feels like such a long time, huh?” 

“Well…yeah.” 

The awkwardness of this conversation was incredibly palpable. Yugi, ever the diplomat, attempted to continue the small talk. “I’ve seen that you’ve been busy. Organizing another tournament anytime soon?” Both Yugi and Kaiba knew this was more of a polite question. 

“If there was, you would be the first to know about it.” 

Yugi chuckled a bit. “Should I be expecting a rematch then?” he said with a smile. 

“You can count on it,” Kaiba replied with a smirk of his own. 

Yugi was Kaiba’s true friend in a way. They had been through so much together. Their separate bonds with Atem and finesse as duelists was enough ground to turn their acquaintanceship into something more dependable. Even if it was painfully awkward in this early phase.

Their conversation seemed to have reached a natural end so Yugi stated he was heading to the drinks table where his friends were treating the expensive cocktails like two-buck chucks and excused himself. 

_Now back to finding her._

Seto once again scanned the room amongst the many attendees engaged in conversation. He found the woman he was looking for exiting the room in an urgent manner behind the conversing Mokuba and Rebecca Hawkins.

“Hey, Seto! Why are you in such a hurry? The program is going to start in sev---,” said Mokuba.

“I’ll be back. This won’t take long,” Seto replied with a curt grunt before chasing after Isis to give her a piece of his mind. 

* * *

“We’ll have to discuss this later Rishid. Thank you for playing the diplomat at the hospital.” 

“Of course, sister.” 

With that, Isis ended the call, closed her phone, and rubbed her temples. _Family can be so unforgiving_. She needed to stay outside on the blimp deck longer to cool her head before going back inside. 

Seto Kaiba had other plans.

“Isis.” Seto’s towering frame was decidedly annoyed as he stood with his arms crossed. His magnificent white coat flapped in the wind much like a fire readying to burst into explosive flames.

“Seto?” It took Isis a quick moment to switch gears to register his displeasure. “Is something the matter?” 

“You did walk away from my exhibition duel. You should know that I don’t give free blimp rides to just anyone. Least of all guests who don’t appreciate the show.” His icy glare dared her to impress him with a good excuse. 

_Is he upset that I didn’t watch the whole thing? And to call this thing a blimp seems inaccurate, dinner plate on a boomerang and all._

“Seto, I had a family emergency to attend to.” Isis decided to be forthright, even if it meant she sounded a bit cliched. “I have an ailing grandmother who...nevermind. Apologies.” The usually cool-headed Isis was on the verge of venting out some pent up frustration before she stopped abruptly. 

“You have relatives?” Kaiba’s hostile aura slightly abated, though his expression did not change. “I thought the family circus was a three siblings’ act.” 

Isis ignored his comment and proceeded to explain. “Seto, the Tomb Keepers separated into different clans several times during the past five thousand years. The other clans, you know the ones who brought the other millennium items at the duelling ceremony, are my blood relatives.” Isis placed her right hand on the guardrail and looked out towards the night sky, observing the blinking lights of the aircraft. “We do not necessarily the closest of kinship with them, but one could say we are trying to become a normal family now that we are free.” Seto didn’t say anything for a while, but she could feel his eyes staring at her before he shifted his feet and head and gazed at the dark sky as well. 

“I see.” Seto paused. “Seems like a lot has changed for you and your brothers.” 

Isis smiled bittersweetly. “Pegasus told you about our new house, didn’t he?” she explained, referring to the invitation that got her here in the first place. 

“Nhm.” 

“We initially thought that it would just be the three of us, connecting to a new world and leaving all behind. But--” Isis took a deep sigh. “Perhaps it was naive for us to think it would be so simple. I certainly can’t leave the old world behind because it is in my blood and my career. And neither would I want to either. This heritage, though fraught and traumatic, is also rich and restorative.” Isis’s stern face turned to look at Seto’s piercing stare. “Of course, you might find this all very silly.” She gave him a defeated smile as she said this. 

Seto quickly turned his gaze back to the blinking lights. He looked as he was parsing through something as he shifted on his feet and uncrossed and recrossed his arms after smoothing out his hair with one hand. Several moments passed, as Isis placed both hands on the guardrail and looked out at the passing night sky. Nothing but the high winds and the sound of the whirring engines.

He eyed her poised profile from the corner of his eye and noticed the lovely way in which the dim lights reflected on her golden skin and dark hair. “Of course it is. If I had a similar view I wouldn’t be here,” Seto replied plainly, finally breaking the meditative silence. 

Isis found his natural inclination towards arrogance highly amusing and classic Seto. There was a lot implied in that statement that did not need to be said, and Isis took comfort in that mutual understanding of their complicated shared history. “Indeed. You are quite the legend Seto. Much like your ancient self who grew up to be an excellent pharaoh by the way.” Isis saw Seto’s lips twist into an arrogant smirk. “The Pharaoh would certainly agree as well. Although he would still say he was the King of Games. He did beat you at Battle City.” Instantly she got the desired reaction from Seto as he looked a bit perturbed; he clearly registered which pharaoh was being referred to. 

“Yeah, well, being second place to him is...tolerable.’ This surprised Isis because both she and Kaiba knew that he himself didn’t exactly believe this. “I’m sure another duel between us would have proven me the ultimate duelist!”

“Who said you were even second place? Surely you are third. Yugi did beat him after all.” Isis could see a choleric twitch of his eye as he gave her a piercing stare.

_This ridiculous woman…._

She continued, “Surely that is no different than being on Jonouchi’s level.” The sly smile and mirthful eyes did not go unnoticed, nor did it do anything to decrease Seto’s annoyance who now gave her a full-out death gaze. 

_This fucking ridiculous woman…._

“Isis! Please, that mutt is just a third rate duelist with a fourth-rate deck!” 

“You’ve definitely used that one before.” Isis cooly commented as she played with a strand of her hair in affected boredom. 

“Exactly, he doesn’t need a new insult because he’s not good enough to deserve one.” Seto crossed his arms tighter in defiance. “He only flubbed his way through those tournaments, lucky enough to have _him_ as one of his friends.” 

“Sounds like you are jealous of Jonouchi.”

“Excuse you?” Seto growled.

“Although I suppose the closest thing to playing card games with the Pharaoh again would be facing Yugi.” 

Seto’s anger deflated a bit but he still angrily confessed, “It’s not the same!” 

Isis raised her eyebrows. “Certainly you were there to see it with your own eyes. Even called him the King of Games afterwards. Sure the personalities are a bit different, but the play style…” 

“It’s just not the same.” Seto turned his head away from Isis.

She was unable to see the expression on his face. _I think I understand now._

“Seto, it’s how I feel.” Isis hovered a hand over Seto’s arm. “I can’t rely on the powers of the millennial tauk nor wait for ancient prophecies written on stones to manifest. When I think about the powers and purpose I had before--” 

“Mr. Kaiba! I’ve been look-- ” Isono’s lean form stopped once he saw the two of them. Isis and Seto stood very closely with Isis’s hand almost touching his employer’s arm. “A-am I interrupting something?” 

Isis elegantly moved her hand away as Seto returned to his more hardened demeanour before he spoke. “Is something the matter, Isono?” The question wasn’t so much an inquiry as it was more of an attempt to dispel more ‘intimate’ interpretations of their interaction.

“Right, I wanted to double-check the evening program situation, sir. We’re about to get started in two minutes.” Isono stood to attention as he explained. “Also we weren’t so sure if you wanted Mr. Motou to do a speech or something to award the winner of the exhibition duel.”

Seto turned to Isis and quickly excused himself before exiting the blimp deck with Isono by his heels. Isis eyed Seto’s broad shoulders and the long line of his neck as he commandingly walked away. 

* * *

Efficient as ever, the private flight back to the Kaiba manor doubled as a post-event debrief meeting. Isono was running through some event metrics as a stern-faced, cross-legged Seto and an attentive yet exhausted Mokuba listened. 

“Overall, the press seemed ready to give glowing reviews. The wider audience for this one should definitely increase anticipation for the release next week.” Isono sat opposite to the brothers, shuffling through pages on a clipboard as he spoke. 

“We need to convince old Duel Disk users to buy the newer model,” said Seto as he closed his eyes in thought. 

“We need to make it bigger!” Mokuba’s sudden outburst was a surprise, especially since he seemed rather quiet. 

“The showcase or the holograms?” Isono clarified.

“No, no. We need to make the Macau opening really good!” Mokuba appeared instantly energetic. “No, not just good, stupendously spectacular!” He bent his arms with clenched fists as if trying to contain his growing enthusiasm. 

Isono and Seto looked in bemusement at Mokuba. 

“We aren’t talking about Macau right now,” informed Seto.

Mokuba shook his head. 

“But it’s the same thing. We need to make sure our image isn’t going to be derivative, ya know? I mean, didn’t we just release a slightly better version of an already functioning product?” This last comment hit a nerve for Seto but he knew he had to be patient. 

“Of course it isn't. It’s far better.” Seto didn’t have to elaborate as Mokuba was heavily involved in the user experience research. “Kaiba Corp is known for quality, not cheap corporate cash grabs. We’ll meet with the brand strategy team to make sure those things fly off the shelves with every duellist itching to use them.”

“But will all of this work? I mean, aren’t we catering to already established clients? Will it be...enough?” Mokuba lost steam towards the end and slackened his posture in defeat, his hair hiding his eyes.

“Of course. We’re Kaiba Corp. We’ll succeed perfectly. Accept no substitutes.”

“We’re projected to increase our theme park revenues, sir,” Isono offered in hopes to assuage Mokuba’s newly expressed fears.

Mokuba still looked unconvinced somehow. 

_I think I know what this is about..._

“Did...Keiko say anything?” Seto spoke slowly, unsure why he bothered asking something he didn’t want to know about, especially the opinion of a person who wasn’t a duelist.

Mokuba sighed a bit before opening his mouth. “Yes? I mean she did ask what the point was releasing a new duel disk when the old duel disk was fine.” 

“But our focus groups with the professional duelists and lab tests showed the duelists preferred the lighter weight, the high definition hologram graphics and higher memory and remote duelling capabilities.” Isono clearly did not know that Keiko wasn’t a duelist. 

“I don’t see why you would be so bothered by Keiko’s ill-informed hot takes. She’s a bit out of her depth here.” Kaiba was annoyed. 

“No, it’s not that!” Mokuba exclaimed. “I just think that maybe she….”

_For someone who was clearly upset with Keiko, he really wants to defend her._

“Spit it out, Mokuba.” 

Mokuba knew Seto’s boundaries of his patience and sighed deeply. “She and I got into a fight…” 

“So?”

His older brother’s unsympathetic remark wasn’t helping, but he persisted to explain. “We fought because I didn’t realize that she was angry at me for the past three days. Apparently, her aunt, who is Koshitsu, you know Japanese royalty, thought that I didn’t appreciate Keiko’s aria recital enough because I happened to respond to an urgent text about the Duel Disk release from R&D.” Seto was secretly glad Mokuba’s dedication to the company was what caused the rift. He didn’t need further details but Mokuba continued anyways. “Keiko believed her aunt and then gave me a lecture on how the new Duel Disk is just a rehash of the old one and we are causing coups in South America because we source from Canadian lithium mining companies with nefarious business practices.” Mokuba crossed his arms and slumped in annoyance at the memory. 

Seto broke out into a short bout of dark laughter. “She clearly doesn’t know how I came to run this company,” he scoffed. 

“Well, yes...but I don’t get why she lashed out like that.” Mokuba’s eyebrows furrowed as he spoke, feeling a bit ambivalent at his brother’s morally grey business practices by now. “Then I called manufacturing and then informed her we source our lithium from West Africa. No government coups involved. But then she really got mad. Accusing our company of condoning child labour and robbing children of happiness and childhoods!” Mokuba’s voice progressively got tenser and angrier as he moved his hands in exasperation. “I mean, does she even know my origin story? The whole free admission for orphans to Kaibaland? Does she even _know me_?!” 

Admittedly, the last part seemed less trivial and more a serious affront to both the brothers’ pride and principles. But Seto did not care for Keiko; it was just the opinion of a bratty almost-princess riding her high horse. 

“Well, it shows how little she knows,” Seto scowled.

“Right?! But then I told her about Kaibaland and how it brings joy, especially to children. And how orphans get in for free. Then she huffed away and said that Kaibaland Macau’s opening better make all the children of the world smile, to make up for all the evil we contribute to such as the end of--what did she call it?-- ‘degradation of the environment through our promotion of hyper-consumerism?’” Mokuba crossed his arms and slumped back clearly replaying the conversation in his head as he fumed. “I mean what does that even mean?!”

“Mokuba, I thought I taught you to know better than to take everyone’s opinion without a grain of salt. Let her think what she wants. She’ll see how wrong she is at the opening.” Seto chuckled darkly. _It will show her!_ _No phone call will steal her attention away._

“Yeah, I know. Still, I would like the person I date to have faith in what I do, ya know?” 

Seto shrugged his shoulders. _She always had faith in me for some reason._

Mokuba recovered with a much more jovial expression. “Rebecca was talking about how impressive everything was and couldn’t wait for the Kaibaland Macau ceremony and how stupendously spectacular the show will be. It might not just impress Keiko but her annoying aunt as well.” Mokuba looked determined. He fisted the air with his right hand as an accent to his declaration. 

“Sounds like quite the grand gesture,” Isono commented innocently. 

Seto thought back to the distracted Isis who left the exhibition duel clearly not awed enough to stay. He thought back to the intimate conversation he had afterwards and admiring the way she seemed so serene and comforting under the high altitude night sky. The irritating way she knew how to annoy him. The alluring way her lips tilted to give the subtlest of smiles... 

“You’re right Mokuba. We need to do something bigger and bolder. No distraction or family member will be able to compete.”

* * *

“Isis, where have you been? Your grandmother just came from the hospital and she wanted to talk to you! Take this to her and then come help out back here.” 

It had only been 5 minutes since returning from her peace mission. After a six-hour flight from France followed by a two-hour ride through the hot desert, she was already being given marching orders and criticism about her devotion to family affairs. 

_Typical._

Taia, her direct cousin she didn’t know too well and was more than a decade older than her, handed her a faience cup as Isis entered the hearth room . 

Isis sighed, but she had mentally prepared for this. “Yes, yes, going now.” She shuffled across the narrow hallways, past a room where the children were playing duel monsters gleefully, past another room where the elderly uncles and aunts were drinking tea and playing senet, and then finally reached the open door to the room she needed. 

Isis met Marik outside as he was exiting the room. “How is _mau_?” 

“Melodramatic as usual,” Marik grumbled as he escaped. “She kept saying how much I look like _baba_ and how much of a bastard he was.” He paused and frowned. “Which usually doesn’t bother me but I’m stressed from the all-nighter I had to fucking pull, writing some hippie good vibes shit for some corporate ass-wipes who want to make some ‘Ancient Egyptian’ shit for their overpriced E-Bay store. If I was not getting paid so fucking well, I would have turned it down.”

“Language…”

“Oh don’t worry, her knowledge of modern Arabic is severely lacking. She was pretending she had horrible hearing in the hospital because she didn’t want to admit she couldn’t understand what the doctors and nurses were saying. Like, if I were to explain kink to her, she would not even be embarrassed, mostly because she wouldn’t really understand the Arabglish bits.” Marik grinned.

“Thank Ra…”

“Anyways going to head out to play games with the kiddies. Have fun practicing your Late Egyptian.” Marik teased as he walked away.

“Could you go help out in the kitchen?” 

“Yes, yes. Though I won’t enjoy it because Ta-i-a is a p-a-in!” Marik yelled as he disappeared around a corner. 

“Iset! Is that you?” Isis turned to the room to see her elderly maternal grandmother convalescing on the bed. Her tan wrinkled skin, stark white hair and thin bony frame was propped half up on firm pillows. 

“It’s Isis, mau.” Unfazed by being mistaken for her dead mother, as usual, Isis walked and sat on a chair next to the elderly woman and held out the glass cup containing a honey-based drink. “I got you this. And don’t worry, it’s cold.” She helped her grandmother drink as she held the cup carefully by her lips, taking sips in between their conversation.

“Ah sorry dear, but you look so much like my sweet Iset.” 

“I know,” Isis barely remembers her long-gone mother, but she was always reminded that she resembled her in some way. 

“Such a lovely woman, your mother. So kind and pious just like I taught her to be. Her flawless recitation of our more difficult texts, my they were divine. What an excellent Priestess she would have been if we still lived in the time of the Pharoah’s courts.”

Her grandmother looked away wistfully. And then:

“But then she married that bastard….” she spoke as if spitting bile before turning to look at Isis again. “My dear, please don’t do what your mother did by marrying that selfish father of yours!” This conversation was a painfully familiar one. Painful not so much because Isis was intimately aware of the cruelty of her strict and ambitious father, the fate of her kind mother, and the eventual rift between her and her siblings, it was more because it was boring to hear others give you their retrospective commentary in the context of their failure to take ownership of emphatically vouching for the ill-fated union of her parents in the first place. 

Rishid remembered it being an initially happy union that went sour once a schism between brothers and an emotionally manipulative mother separated the clans again. This ultimately led to their father’s zeal to dominate family politics by grooming the perfect blood heir to the clan. 

“Don’t worry, mau _,_ I will not.” Isis sighed as she lifted the glass again. She was grateful that growing up with an emotionally abusive and selfish father who favoured their younger brother has taught her to steer clear of romantic relationships with men like this. 

_This is getting exhausting…_

In the middle of her therapeutic sip, the elderly woman got an idea. “You know, do you remember Nour‘s son? He’s of marriageable age. He’s looking for someone within our clan of course. This reminds me, the other day Taia told me that a little one who started to go to one of _those_ schools was really attached to someone from outside the clan. I told Taia to find ways to nip that in the bud because it cannot end well.”

“Oh, you don’t say.” The ‘little one’ in reference was an nine-year-old cousin whose interest in learning about astronomy prompted Marik to convince his parents to send their child to the local public school. Everyone in the family was against it, still in the Tomb Keeper clan mindset and not being able to understand the utility of astronomy. The conflict became so heated that Isis had to use her government contacts to get an employee from NARSS to take some skeptical family members on a tour of the facilities to convince them that there was a future for the nine-year-old outside of ancient tombs and painful flesh rituals. This eventually opened the gates for all of the little ones to be sent out to get a formal education. 

“Nour also has an unmarried daughter, you know. Do you think Rishid would be interested? He really must settle down. What is he, 30 almost?” Rishid, while technically not blood, was part of the clan’s family planning strategy that involved adopting abandoned infants to be raised as clan members to widen the Tomb Keeper’s family gene pool. While his step-father was horrible to him, the rest of the family and certainly his step-mother’s family thought of him as their own. 

“Yes, he knows.” Isis was mentally preparing herself for where this conversation was going next. 

“Isis, in a couple of years you should consider settling down.” Like clockwork, this old conversation started. 

“I know.” Isis sighed as she spoke. 

“Don’t rush to have children though.” Isis had to hold back her natural inclination to wince. “You’ve got a long life ahead of you and I don’t want childbirth to kill you like it did your mother.” 

And there it was.

Isis closed her eyes and breathed in a moment. A couple of years back, when a colleague accidentally overshared that she almost died from postpartum hemorrhage, she recalled the memory of Rishid telling her that their mother died from bleeding too much. Isis had put two and two together to understand the cause of her mother’s death. What was even more heartbreaking to hear was that she found out in that same conversation with her colleague that death from this can be preventable with modern medicine. Sometimes, Isis wondered if Marik wouldn’t have turned evil or if their father wouldn’t have gotten crueller if their mother had been alive to mitigate or even prevent these sad fates. 

“Don’t worry, _mau_.” Isis remembered sharing all this with Rishid during a family therapy session with a psychotherapist who specialized in generational family trauma. Rishid was anguished while Marik felt deeply guilty for being born. They had talked through all of this in the therapy session enough to start healing from these wounds and processing their trauma. Part of the reason the three of them were able to heal so quickly after Battle City was because they all had agreed to go to therapy together. 

“But do marry someone within the clans. Outside people will not understand us. You don’t want to end up alienated like some of the little ones. Why just last week, Taia was telling me--” 

Much like the rest of the family’s understanding of the world, her grandmother’s comment reminded Isis why she and her brothers were so profoundly alienated from the rest of the family who stayed in their sarcophagus. It was as if they were trying to make another generation of Tomb Keepers in an age where there was no need for them. They treated the outside world with skepticism, preemptive antagonism, and cynicism which was always packaged as being more realistic and legitimate, mostly because of their age. 

Isis knew how to calculate where to invest energy in. Trying to negotiate with an elder who didn’t even know that Isis had experiences that would shock their archaic sensibilities, which included briefly dating people outside of the clan, threatened to give Isis a massive migraine.

“Drink more tea, mau.” With that, Isis interrupted her grandmother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Keiko is not considered a princess because her mother married a non-royal and therefore according to the laws of the Imperial family, loses her royal status. Thus Keiko could be considered an almost-though-not-really princess. 
> 
> -mau is technically mother in Coptic, but then I read in my google research that in Egyptian texts, mother and grandmother would use the same word. 
> 
> -Iset is actually the Egyptian way of saying Isis. Isis is technically the Greek way. 
> 
> -in my headcanon, the Tomb Keepers are probably excellent linguists. In addition to knowing Ancient Egyptian and the various languages it developed into such as Coptic, they probably also know Egyptian Arabic because they aren't that isolated from the outside world, they just choose to heavily discourage interacting with it. 
> 
> -NARSS is basically the Egyptian space agency. 
> 
> -my headcanon is that the Ishtar siblings go to family therapy to tackle a large amount of generational trauma they most definitely have. Let's be honest, a lot of people in the series need therapy.


	6. Watching Ice Melt Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Kaibaland Macau's grand opening ceremony! Will it be enough to finally impress Isis?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a really long chapter as I had to re-emphasize and establish a lot of beats according to the Gwen Hayes romance novel outline so I decided to chop it into two.

The crowd in the open-air stadium buzzed with excited anticipation. The sun was setting and a million lights that dotted the birdnest like coliseum were starting to slowly turn on in sequences. Isis comfortably sat in the VIP section with other special guests as she panned over the sea of spectators and flashing lights. 

“They built a man-made island in between two wealthy Chinese city-states.” Marik sat laid back relaxed against his plush seat beside Isis. He lazily sipped on a magenta crazy straw from a pink tropical cocktail bejewelled with exotic cut fruit. “And they have a great open bar for us. Looks like this will be quite the show.” Isis simply nodded still entranced by the lights and the masses. 

“I don’t understand,” Rishid sat on the other side beside Isis, sitting up more properly in his seat, stirring the pink alcoholic slush in his cocktail with furrowed brows. 

“For the last time Rishid, it tastes like flavoured ice but it has alcohol in it!” Marik rolled his eyes at having to give another explanation. 

“No, I understood that Marik,” Rishid sighed. He didn’t understand Marik’s recent fondness for alcohol that tasted like candy and designed like luxury perfume if they tried to market towards children. He had decided to try one tonight on Marik’s insistence. “I mean, why is it called Kaibaland Macau when it is on a man-made island in-between Macau and Hong Kong?” 

Isis looked at the exposed darkening sky and could estimate where Taipa was from the faint beams of light emanating from its skyline. 

_I wonder what this island must look like from Taipa right now._

“Well, actually, two-thirds of Macau is made on reclaimed land from the sea,” Rebecca Hawkins informed from her seat behind the Ishtar siblings while fiddling with the glasses on her face. The two brothers turned their heads towards her general direction as Isis stayed transfixed at the distant swaying city lights.

_There’s a bright dot in the sky._

“Really?” Marik replied in midst of a sip from the needlessly curly straw. “Well, I guess when you’re a tiny ass city-state whose GDP is funded by tourism and gambling, getting a megacorporation to build more land for you to tax is great.” 

“Actually it’s the other way around,” Rebecca corrected after sipping on her own equally tropical but non-alcoholic drink through an elaborate straw. “Macau gave Kaiba Corp money and tax cuts. Huge potential to attract even more mainland Chinese tourists now that Macau is PRC territory. It’s predicted that China’s economy is going to overtake Japan’s within the decade, so it makes sense to build a theme park for this market.” 

_That dot, it almost looks like a star but it’s too bright to see other stars in the sky._

“How fascinating! You sure know a lot about Macau especially for an American high schooler.” Marik said earnestly, basing this assumption on his exposure to privileged yet deeply uninterested American high schoolers who interned with the foreign Egyptologists for their college application to elite schools. Their general ethnocentrism often caused them to ask the most baffling of questions. 

_Hmm, it looks like three dots now. Definitely more than one._

“Hey!” Rebecca was clearly offended at being lumped into a common stereotype that hurt her image of a child genius. “ I actually studied geography! We’re not all ethnocentric you know! Besides, I am not a high schooler. Working on my masters.” 

“No kidding! You’re pretty efficient with your time. I’m still deciding if I want to go to university or not. I guess I don’t really have to since I already do freelance consulting work. What would I do with a master’s? Isis says that it opens up more opportunities but what would I gain?” 

_Wait...are they moving now? Yes, they are moving slowly._

“See, higher education isn’t just about getting a job. It is about collecting and creating knowledge! You know, to create new insights with research and educate the masses! To contribute to the great knowledge archive!” Rebecca’s righteousness made Marik grimace. 

_By Ra, they are moving. Did I drink too much of that cocktail?_

“It’s also pretentious! It’s for people who can stay awake listening to some old guy go on about antiquity in really obtuse language.” 

“Hey! Wait till my grandpa gets back to his seat. He will have some things to say about that!”

_They are getting bigger now. By Ra, I am seeing more stars converging and coming towards us._

“I don’t know if that will change my opinion. I tried reading an Egyptology textbook and hones--”

“Is there something wrong, sister? You’ve been staring at the sky in concern for a while now.” Isis answered Rishid’s question by pointing to the mass of dots growing in number and size up in the sky. 

“Look!” 

All of a sudden, the loud thuds of stadium lights turning off echoed throughout and the place went almost pitch black. Then, large screens throughout the stadium lit up with a ten-second countdown. The crowd cheered and hollered in excitement, their noises getting louder as the clock sped closer to a smaller number. 

_‘3...2...1...0…...LOOK UP AT THE SKY!’_

Music started playing, a thumping beat with a tense set of chords over it. The mass of dots was now closer to the middle of the exposed sky. Suddenly they all changed colours and seemed to be falling towards the stadium, the crowd was gasping and awing. Someone from the VIP section announced: 

“My word! They look like skydivers!” 

The music then changed to a jaunty orchestral number as two hundred falling human figures wearing clothes fitted with bright coloured lights impressively linked arms midair to meticulously form the letters of a very recognizable logo with a message: 

_‘Welcome to Kaibaland Macau_ _❀'_

“They even managed to get the flower in?”

After displaying it in English, the skydivers elegantly shifted to display the illuminated message in Portuguese and then finally in Chinese.

“Actually that’s Cantonese,” Rebecca clarified preemptively to no one in particular with a self-satisfied smile. One of Yugi’s friends sarcastically yelled from a few seats away. 

“We get it, you can read it. You’re a genius.”

Even as the skydivers came closer and closer to landing in the open field at the centre of the stadium, the message did not break and was somehow still legible. 

“Eh..shouldn’t they have pulled their parachutes a while back, Yug?” 

The crowd watched in horror as they saw two hundred neon-lit skydivers in formation accelerated towards their certain doom. But then, at a hair-raising 500 metres from the ground, streams of propulsive flame activated from their backpacks and propelled them all safely away from the ground. The now jetpacked flyers gracefully floated around the stadium in an intricate dance, looking like a flock of fireflies. After their bedazzling choreography, the flyers pulled out a large barrelled tube-like looking contraption from their backpacks and started shooting balls of stuff at the audience. The crowd went berserk. 

“Rishid, one of those shots landed on your lap!” Rishid unfolded the ball and revealed it to be a welcome to Kaibaland Macau t-shirt miraculously in his size. He smiled at it. 

“I got a Blue-Eyes White Dragon!” Rebecca exclaimed while holding up her large plushie excitedly. 

After gifting the crowd with branded swag, the two hundred jetpack flyers all formed a giant circle along the inner perimeter of the stadium and shot their stuff cannons towards the centre. The resulting collision sent waves of bright blue lights that not only lit up the stadium but also somehow changed the temperature of the air.

“Here Anzu, take my jacket.” 

“Is anyone else freezing their balls off?” 

The jetpack flyers then all hurled their glorified t-shirt guns to the ground and as if like grenades, this exploded and cracked the ground open. Large colourful fireworks awed the crowd as parts of an ice structure slowly rose from the broken ground, finally revealing a magnificent ice cathedral. Amongst the fog, stage lights and the pyrotechnics, two figures slowly emerged on top of the ice.

The Kaiba brothers stood arrogantly on the roof of the ice colossus, surrounded by their adoring fans as they chanted their name. A close up of Seto’s face on the screen showed he was smirking in approval. 

_‘Kaiba! Kaiba! Kaiba!’_

“That Kaibaboy always living for the drama!” Pegasus who sat in front of Isis, clapped his hands to emphasize his hysterical enjoyment. “It appears our Ice Prince has arrived.” 

_I wish the Supreme Council of Antiquities has this much fanfare and funding._

* * *

  
“Honestly Isis, these peace missions are the shit!” Marik yelled gleefully while galloping on a figure of a Dark Zebra on a Duel Monsters themed merry-go-round, waving his cocktail around in his hand. His older siblings indulged him by also riding on the neon-lit carnival attraction, although without the spiked shaved ice. “If I had known I would have definitely signed up to go with you earlier, Isis.” 

“Well, that is a bit biased,” Isis opted for riding on a Fabled Cerburrel figure. “You do remember what I said about the other ones right?”

“To be fair Marik, the Kaiba Corp event did sound dull,” Rishid commented as he side saddled his Thunder Sea Horse figure. “That one sounded like an excuse for Kaiba to remind us how great he was. I wouldn’t call it an olive branch.” 

“It wasn’t all dull. I did get to befriend some interesting new people. It’s nice to expand my circle outside of duelists and archeologists.” Isis admitted. 

“Ok fine, but the duel exhibition was pretty great, right? I saw the video on Yahoo! Japan, it looked pretty kickass.” Marik insisted before taking a generous sip through his crazy straw. 

“I suppose it was?” Isis tilted her head and gazed off to the side in thought. “Honestly, I could not remember too much of it. But from what I do remember, it felt a lot like Battle City finals but less stressful.” Isis gave Marik a sardonic smile. 

“Ok fair, I would have definitely not enjoyed that. Too soon for that.” Marik confessed, trying to hide his discomfort with another large sip. “Besides, didn’t he just invite you to that one? He seems to always be reaching out to you go to these kinds of things for some reason.”

“I suppose he can only tolerate us in minimum doses. Understandable given the history of having to deal with all three of us at once.” Isis deadpanned. “He was surprised we had other relatives the last time we spoke. Isn’t it ironic that the person whose ancient self-created our clan doesn’t know how we are organized? ”

“Legend did say that Pharoah Seth was life’s great micromanagers. Well, that’s what ummana used to say when trying to convince baba.” Rishid didn’t have to clarify that their mother tried to convince their dad that Rishid should become heir to the Ishtar Tomb Keeper line, using the robust Tomb Keeper bylaws authored by Pharoah Seth each time she did. This was of course before Marik was born. 

“Wait, she actually used the word micromanager? ” Marik was skeptical although he has no memory of his mother but then again he was definitely starting to feel the alcohol. “Sounds a bit...modern?”

“Of course not, I am simply just paraphrasing,” Rishid said. 

“Anyway, I bet Kaiba used his whole circus freak line again.” Marik rolled his eyes and Isis chuckled. 

“You’re gambling instincts are indeed correct. He said something about being surprised that the family circus was more than a ‘three sibling act’.” Isis elucidated. Marik’s face twisted into a displeased expression when he spoke.

“Seriously Isis, how can you tolerate the man? At least you didn’t have to have a whole conversation with him.” Marik loudly finished the liquid from his cocktail through his straw. He started to tip the glass over to get at the solid bits, chucking the elaborate and needlessly large straw somewhere outside of the carousel. Isis admonished him for doing this before continuing. 

“Actually Marik, he can be quite pleasant company.” Isis’s comment shocked her brothers. Rishid looked visibly concerned for his sister while Marik’s jaw dropped in disbelief. 

“You’re kidding, right? We’re talking about the same asshole who cursed you out when you told him about his past? And even on the boat ride to the ceremonial duel had to have you translate his moody ass to Yugi’s friends on why he was coming along?” Marik though inebriated was clearly not convinced that Kaiba could be civil to his sister. “We’re talking about the same person, right?” Isis frowned a bit at remembering the less civil parts of their acquaintanceship. 

“Yes, but given the right conditions, he can be pleasant to hold entire conversations with.” 

“Entire conversations?” Rishid spoke in disbelief. Marik cackled away. 

“If I didn’t know better, I would think he was trying to flirt with you,” Marik commented sarcastically. “Although we know that isn’t true because he has the biggest boner in the world for the Pharaoh that he refuses to admit.” 

“Marik!” both Isis and Rishid admonished. 

“What? We all know it’s true! Isis, remember the holographic stadium he made for his duel with the Pharaoh at Battle City? He didn't do it for anyone else. Although he would probably be too emotionally constipated to admit that it was some misguided grand gesture.”

“If you must know, he is more emotionally intelligent and aware than you give him credit for.” Isis felt somewhat silly that she was defending Kaiba of all people in the area of emotional intelligence, especially since her brothers remained unpersuaded. She felt especially silly when Marik’s face had a drunken grin. 

“Ha! I should sing that song in all those American high school shows. Isis and Kaiba sitting on a tree..” Marik teased in a sing-song voice not because he wanted to actually see this manifest, but rather to see Isis perturbed. His usual ‘Kaiba is a douchebag that my poor sister had to endure’ sensibility, was significantly dulled by the alcohol. 

Isis was more uncomfortable than annoyed. She knew how this rhyme ended and the idea that she and Seto would end up having a baby in a carriage by choice was disturbing. 

_He may have notable qualities, but he would be a handful to deal with as a partner. The angst, the moodiness. Scoffing at my beliefs and way of seeing the world…._

“Personally, I prefer Egyptian mosalsalat to American TV shows,” Rishid commented to detract Marik, spotting Isis’s discomfort but not wanting to add fire to the fuel that is drunk Marik’s presumption that denial equals truth like some kind of romance author hack. Rishid also wasn’t a fan of cocktails. 

_The toxic view he has on weakness and emotional vulnerability. That part may not be necessarily his fault, but last time I had to literally scold him about not letting a toxic parent affect the rest of his life to persuade him to help the Pharaoh...I am not his therapist. I do not want to end up like ummi._

“K-I-S-S--” 

_We’re barely acquaintances. I constantly have to deal with his coldness. Asking him to open up his ice-cold heart and worldview would be like pulling teeth. Men aren't projects for women to slave over._

“Syrian ones are also great,” Rishid added. He spent most of this year watching reruns of Arabic dramas, finding solace in stories about neglected and overlooked underdogs trying to prove themselves in antagonistic and hierarchical society while protecting the things and people they hold dear at all costs. He’s clearly never related to any piece of media more. 

“I-N-G--”

 _I mean, he is handsome, objectively._ _I am glad I got to catch up and reconnect with him this year though._

“Lebanese ones need work though. Their scripts are just not as good.” This last comment interrupted Marik.

“Holy shit Rishid, just how many mosalsalat did you watch with Ahmed this year? It’s almost March!” Marik’s speech slurred a bit as he questioned his brother. “For someone who thinks Lebanese ones are shit you clearly must have watched a lot of them to be able to speak with a flawless Levantine dialect when we were in Beirut.” 

“Marik’s right, you do have an impressive handle of Levantine Arabic.” 

Isis was grateful to have a caring and observant older brother with a newly developed obsession with prestige Arabic television. The last thing she wanted to do was give Marik any wild ideas that she wanted to make ice melt and have front row seats to watch it happen.

With that, the carousal stopped spinning and the teasing was forgotten. 

“Let’s get that crazy straw you carelessly threw away, Marik. Before someone trips and falls on it,” Isis humorously suggested. She turned around towards him but he seemed to have disappeared. “Marik?”

“He probably went to go get more of those cocktails.” Rishid sighed getting off his seahorse and exiting the ride to go after him. “I’ll go make sure he’s safe.”

* * *

The after-party took place in an open field illuminated by neon lights and large glow-in-the-dark fixtures emulating various whimsical flora and abstract shapes. The gleeful chorus of half inebriated laughter echoed from both the main party area and the amusement park rides that surrounded it. The hundred or odd esteemed guests who were lucky enough to be invited seemed to be enjoying themselves, especially at the privilege of attending Kaibaland Macau as a VIP guest. 

Seto walked in on the scene feeling like a goddamn fucking king. 

He most certainly impressed anyone who was there to witness the fruits of his labour. The constant barrage of drunk shareholders, journalists and celebrities who stopped him prooved this. 

_She’ll be impressed this time!_

He spotted Isis right away, sitting at one of the park benches, peacefully savouring a scoop of ice cream, surrounded by a flourishing display of large pink and white neon lotuses. He observed her from a distance, silently admiring the serendipitous beauty of the night time scene. The hard hours spent working to ensure Kaibaland Macau’s success had profit-driven motivations certainly, but Mokuba’s desire to use it to impress a girl inspired Seto as well. 

He recalled the times they spoke this year. He remembered their one-on-one conversations often being cut short but enjoyable, even the parts that irritated him. Seto would never admit this out loud, but Isis made him feel things and he wanted to keep feeling these things. Each time they connected this year, he left feeling both challenged and understood. The sense of comfort he got from their recent interactions was similar to spending time with Mokuba for sure, but there he was the older brother, not quite an equal. Perhaps it felt similar to duelling Atem, a man he thought of and longed for often. But it was much more palpable, much more real, much more stable, much more within his reach. 

He wasn't so sure how to express it. 

Maybe Mokuba’s romance talks were getting to him because the thought of Isis potentially feeling the same about him made his heart skip faster, warmer even. 

“Kaiba-boy!” Pegasus looped an arm around Seto’s shoulder with a wine glass in his other hand, swirling the red liquid before taking a sip. “Congratulations on putting on a delectably showstopping spectacle. The crowds were ecstatic. The shareholders will no doubt be very happy with the increased revenue from park ticket sales.” Seto grimaced at having his personal space invaded.

“Of course. Everything went according to plan.” Kaiba beamed with pride as he failed miserably in trying to remove Pegasus’s arm. He stopped trying when a photographer came up to them and asked them to smile for a press photo. They held their position with practiced ease, displaying a much more chummy relationship to the public was part of a series of measures to stave off any more company takeovers by Kaiba’s numerous enemies. Once the photographer was gone, Pegasus removed his arm and took another sip of his drink before speaking. 

“Mokuba must have worked hard, as well.” Pegasus motioned towards the younger Kaiba who was excitedly talking to Rebecca behind Seto. Seto adjusted his stance slightly to take a look.

“He really did. And he did not disappoint.” Did Seto have to contend with that Mokuba’s gusto to organize a show-stopping inauguration was motivated by teenage hormones? Yes. Was he going to admit that one of the main reasons he seemed tolerant of what he would usually deride as a silly motivation was a front for his also using this ceremony to impress a woman? Absolutely not. Not even to his inner circle and especially not to Pegasus. “She is undoubtedly impressed.”

“Little Miss Hawkins?” Pegasus questioned innocently. “My, my! I did not realize that Mokuba was infatuated with her!” 

“What he does with his life--” Seto stopped himself and wondered where Keiko was. She _was_ the reason why Mokuba had fought to increase the ceremony’s budget. Two hundred skydivers skilled in extreme aerial messaging in three different languages certainly do not come cheap. 

“I guess he must like surrounding himself with child prodigies. Give it another five years and he’ll realize he has a type,” Pegasus wondered out loud.

Keiko then joined the conversation with a peck to Mokuba’s cheek before linking her arm with his, as he continued to excitedly chat with Rebecca.

The possessive way Keiko stood next to Mokuba told Pegasus everything. 

“I see, so that’s who he was trying to impress,” Pegasus recalled a group of young teenagers gathered in a corner of the VIP guest box, and concluded they must have been Mokuba’s friends. “Girlfriend, I am presuming?” Kaiba replied with a concise grunt which told Pegasus that he didn’t particularly want to dwell on Mokuba’s romantic life. 

“Must be difficult to see the baby brother test out his wings. Who knows, another decade he might tie the knot with someone.” Pegasus was not trying to hide his affected sympathy. “But alas, such is life! Watching other people get hitched while you die alone!” He dramatically waved his free hand.

“Look! You need not concern yourself with my affairs!” Seto growled at Pegasus having hit a nerve. 

Pegasus looked stunned after Seto’s outburst. He then burst out laughing for what seemed like minutes, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Kaiba felt quite foolish the longer he waited for Pegasus to catch his breath. “Kaibaboy, I am a widower whose wife’s death, a week after our marriage, inflicted a sense of devastation so profound, that it led me to revive an ancient card game and manipulate Japanese teenagers to bring her back to this earthly realm. I have no intention of pursuing new romantic interests. Of course, my life regularly consists of watching the romances of young people bloom around me.” 

“Oh.” Seto felt embarrassed at having revealed too much from his reaction. 

Pegasus sipped his red wine in thought and continued. “You know, I spoke to a Macanese man at the hotel yesterday. He told me about this Portuguese word...oh what was it? Ah, yes. Saudade. Have you heard of it, Kaibaboy?”

“I can’t say I have,” Kaiba grumbled. 

“Then you must let me tell you! It’s a feeling of longing and nostalgia for something or someone no longer within our reach. It’s what some Macanese feel about Macau before its return to China. It’s how I feel when I think of Cecilia.” Pegasus turned his head to look at Yugi and his friends in the distance. “It’s what one might feel about the spirit of a three-thousand-year-old pharaoh departing forever to the afterlife, leaving old friends and _rival_ behind.” Pegasus took a sip of his wine, ignoring the barely concealed wince from Kaiba at the mention of a rival and gestured towards Yugi specifically. “The resemblance is uncanny, isn’t it? Especially since he's grown up so much.”

Seto nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders but Pegasus did not buy Kaiba’s aloof act.

“A word of advice Kaiba boy: people come and go out of our lives, some who change our lives so profoundly that we long for them to come back even after they are gone. Don’t linger on the dried petals of the past when there are fresh buds and flowers around you.” As Pegasus said this, Seto thought back to the beautiful sight of Isis amongst a garden of neon flowers briefly. 

“This is rich from a man who kidnapped my brother and tried to take over my company so you could use Ancient Egyptian hocus pocus and my technology to bring back your dead wife.” 

“Touché!” Pegasus admitted. “But I do think you need to hear my advice. Kaibaboy, believe it or not, you remind me of a younger self--”

“Really?!” Seto was offended at the very suggestion.

“At your age, I was in Egypt, not dealing with my grief well and being given all the power, money and means to find ways to get my dearest back. Don’t let your emotions turn into unhealthy obsessions. You’re an end justifies the means kind of guy when desperate enough.” Pegasus lowered his voice and looked Kaiba in the eye. “I know what you’ve done to get those Blue-Eyes White Dragon cards, after all.”

Kaiba scoffed at Pegasus’s insinuation. “I may not be proud of everything I’ve done in my past, but I’m not one to linger on it. Besides, I’m not the person I was three years ago. Like hell, I’m going to be desperate enough to bring him back."

“Kaibaboy, you have indeed grown so much in the five years I have known you.” Pegasus laughed as he gave a couple of strong pats to Kaiba’s shoulder. “Anyways, I should go talk to a colleague of mine over there. Nice chatting with you!” Pegasus was starting to head off but not before having another last word. “If you’re looking for Isis, she headed towards the magical hats.” 

“Who said I was looking for her?!” Kaiba yelled as Pegasus walked away laughing and obviously unconvinced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the things I am having the time of my life with for this fic is the amount of research holes I get into even more the tiniest dialogues. 
> 
> -Macau like Hong Kong was returned to China in 1997 and is wealthy. It is the gambling capital of Asia and the world. Only place in PRC where casinos were legal so they make their GDP from entertainment and tourism. I thought it would be fun to stick Kaibaland Macau on a reclaimed land because ⅔ of Macau already is. And Kaiba would build an island for his baby. (this story is set in 2000 btw)
> 
> -I was researching iconic Olympic opening ceremonies to base the opening scene off of. DSOD's opening scene was spectacularly peak Kaiba (I think a man flying a fighter jet crashlands and dies to trigger an explosion that summons a Blue-eyes white dragon...then Kaiba gives a fancy presentation to a stadium of people that basically says he is the God of this universe...). The skydivers forming a message in the air is inspired by the 1988 Seoul Olympics. 
> 
> -hilariously, I consulted my half-Egyptian friend who never got into Yugioh for the Egyptian Arabic bits. Ummi is an affectionate way to say my mother. Ummana means our mother. Bless my friend for indulging me. If any of my Coptic Egyptian friends knew Coptic I would also consult them, especially since Coptic is closer to Ancient Egyptian. 
> 
> -Mousalsalats are prestige Arabic tv serials that air during the 30 days of Ramadan. The Egyptian and Syrian ones are the juggernauts in this (Syria produces less than they used to because of the civil war). Their Arabic dialects differ greatly, especially the Egyptian ones which Arabic speakers all over only understand because of the wide viewership of Egyptian mousalsalats. I even started watching one on Netflix called “Secrets of the Nile” which takes place in 1950's Egypt and has excellent costume and scenery porn. And comments of Egyptian social class etc...I just thought it would be cute and make sense if Rishid became a fan. People forgot to write him in a lot of trustshipping fics so I wanted to remedy this.
> 
> -Levantine dialect is spoken in countries near the Levantine sea: Lebanon, Jordan, Syria, Palestine and Israel. Noticeably different from Egyptian dialect which is famous mostly because of the mousalsalats.


	7. Watching Ice Melt Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba tracks down Isis to ask the two hundred billion yen question: did the grand gestures work?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the Set Up Act (yes it took seven longish chapters to get here) according to the Gwen Hayes Romancing the Beat outline. Also, Angst Seto is best Seto to write. Enjoy!

_‘Magical Hats, The Ride’_

Isis read the sign near the entrance of a park ride that she assumed was named after the Magical Hats trap card. The actual ride consisted of large top hats all spinning around on a rotating platform and at its centre was an impressive animated hologram of the Dark Magician. She didn’t intend to join the small line of guests who wanted to take a spin, despite being tempted to do so. Rishid had informed Isis via cellphone that he and Marik would take a bit longer in the men’s room as the very drunk Marik continued to puke his guts out. Isis had more time until they arrived so she decided to entertain herself by observing the ride-goers.

The attraction wasn’t busy at the moment as only a handful of the hats were occupied by guests. That’s when Isis noticed Mokuba sitting in one with two girls his age. She recognized Rebecca easily, remembering her chip in about Macau geopolitics and economic strategies at the opening ceremony. The other girl she did not know but did remember seeing her sitting amongst a group of young teenagers in the VIP section as well. Isis concluded they must be Mokuba’s school friends, the same group she saw at the gala months before. 

_Seto sure has a soft spot for his brother. He let him invite his friends._

Mokuba and the unfamiliar girl were sitting shoulder to shoulder while Rebecca sat opposite to them. All three were having fun spinning in their hat, at points Rebecca and Mokuba enthusiastically turned the metal wheel in the centre to make the hat spin faster. The three of them were somehow able to hold a conversation, although it seemed that Rebecca was dominating it as Mokuba and the girl mostly listened. That was until Mokuba turned to the girl with excitement as he said something to her, inspired by what Rebecca said. The girl politely nodded her head though not convinced by their eagerness. Rebecca then continued to talk as she pointed at the Dark Magician and what she assumed were the various other Duel Monster holograms strewn across the park grounds. She then mimicked wearing a Duel Disk as Rebecca bent her left arm and mimed drawing a card with her right hand. Mokuba seemed to really like whatever Rebecca was explaining as he eagerly nodded his head while turning to the girl to impress his enthusiasm. Then the ride ended and the three of them walked out of the giant metal top hat as they headed towards the exit ramp that curved towards the entrance. 

“OMG Keiko, you know what would be _amazing?”_ Isis turned to the sound of Rebecca’s distinctly American English voice as the three teenagers stood behind her. She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop but she was curious why they were talking so passionately about Duel Monsters. “We should teach you how to play Duel Monsters! You will love it!” 

“So I have been told…” Keiko’s less than enthusiastic response was polite and poised.

“It’s like I said, the ability to customize your deck and think of strategies to win...it is exhilarating! And I’m not even that good. Not like Rebecca,” Mokuba chimed in.

“Aww, thanks! Though not as good as your brother. He’s top three, no?” Rebecca asked as she turned to Mokuba.

“Top _two_ , yes.” Mokuba’s subtle correction made Isis almost snort in laughter. “Although Becca, you’re a pretty amazing duelist as well! You did well in the KC tournament last year! Semi-finalist!” 

“Aw shucks Moks, it’s a nice boost to my confidence.” Rebecca was charmed by the earnest compliment.

_Becca? Moks? They sure became fast friends._

“I vote we go to the merry-go-round. It would be a great way to show Keiko more Duel Monsters!” 

As the three walked away and Mokuba and Rebecca continued their Duel Monsters based chatter, Mokuba offered his arm to Keiko. Keiko took it though it did not appear to mitigate her feeling left out of the discussion. 

_Oh dear. She must be Mokuba’s...special friend? I wonder how Seto feels about this?_

“Isis.” 

_Ah, the Ice Prince has arrived._

* * *

“Seto,” Isis greeted him warmly. 

“Isis,” Seto repeated again with his icy cold stare. 

_This is it. Time to find out if my grand gesture worked._

He replayed what he imagined she would say as he had many times this past month. While ensuring that every detail of his ceremony was meticulously reviewed, the idea that Isis would appreciate the successful opening festivities of Kaiba Corp gradually turned into imaging several iterations of a scene in which Isis was impressed with Seto specifically. ‘Congratulations for the successful opening of Kaibland Macau’ morphed into ‘Seto you must be pleased with the hard work of your team. All of this is most impressive!’ which finally transformed into ‘Seto, you really impressed me. It has made me see you _differently._ ’ 

Seto always thought himself a pragmatic young man and while he did chide himself for inflating his expectations and doing something that depended on the subjective approval of another person for reasons other than innovation and profit, the natural high he got from thinking about the best version of this moment was far too alluring. Almost addicting. 

He was beginning to understand what Mokuba was talking about. Grand gestures were like Duel Monsters, games to be won through luck, access to the best resources and strategy. Like business decisions, there was a risk of failure, but he was Seto fucking Kaiba. He did not fail. He was going to impress Isis so mu---

“Would you like to go on this ride with me, Seto?” 

“What?” Isis’s question pulled Seto out of his intense reverie and he felt a bit caught off guard. “Why are you asking me to go on my own ride?” Seto asked in mild annoyance.

“I was hoping to go on with my brothers but I think it would make their booze-filled stomachs nauseous. I suspect that’s why so few are riding this at the moment,” Isis pointed at the sparse queue for the ride. “Regardless, it looks fun.” 

“I know,” Seto said confidently as he crossed his arms. “My elite team of engineers and beta testers know how to meet my very high standards.” Isis smiled at his predictably arrogant response. 

“Surely, The Great Seto Kaiba can go ride his own attraction. Mokuba was just on this with his friends.” Isis tilted her head waiting for Seto to give her a futile excuse but was surprised when none came. 

“Fine.” Seto resigned to go along. If he wanted to know what she thought of his secret grand gesture and therefore what she thought of _him_ without having to admit to himself and her that he had a crush on her and therefore feeling uncomfortably exposed and vulnerable, he should probably indulge her a bit. Of course, he couldn’t just ask her outright. He was still trying to figure out what the end goal of getting her to see him _differently_ was, though looking at his brother he did have some ideas. 

Isis, though lightly astonished at Seto’s unexpected acceptance of her invitation, the slight upward tilt of her lips indicated that she was pleased with his response. He may have agreed to go along for the ride but his grumpy demeanour and closed body language said he didn’t entirely expect to enjoy it. After they settled into a hat and the platform started to spin, Isis pointed out a paradox. 

“Seto, for someone who certified this ride to be fun, you sure don’t look convinced. Are you sure your team is elite enough?” Isis kept a straight face as she teased him. The hat itself started to spin and her long hair became more animated from the circular movements.

“Very funny Isis,” Seto tried to glare at her, but the way his choppy bangs danced off his forehead was comical. 

“And yet you don’t seem delighted,” Isis observed nonchalantly while ignoring Seto’s attempt at a biting gaze to examine the metal wheel between them. “The irony of the CEO of Kaibaland not being amused by his own iconic amusement parks is too delicious to not savour, no?” 

Seto scoffed, “It’s not what I think is amusing, it’s what my shareholders and guests think is amusing. It’s what impresses _them_.” 

“Very on-brand one might say. All about the spectacle, the _impressions_.” Isis commented as she cautiously tested the movements of the wheel, recalling Mokuba and his companions taking turns to spin it to make the hat rotate faster. 

Before Seto could respond with a quip about his company’s reputation for the best quality in everything they did, the hat started spinning erratically in different directions, the sudden movements almost knocking him down. As he tried to recover, sit up straight and smooth his hair in place, Isis herself surprised by the intensity of the hat’s rotation, let go of the wheel and apologized. 

“I didn’t know that these move so easily,” Isis commented sheepishly as she rubbed her temples trying to assuage her headache. “I understand now why some of the more inebriated guests are avoiding this attraction. It certainly leaves an impression,” she joked. 

“Is that what you thought of all the events I invited you to?” Seto blurted out, evidently vexed. 

Isis stopped rubbing her forehead and looked at Seto before she spoke. “That they were impressive? Yes, of course.” 

“Meaning?” Seto looked impatient. 

“Meaning they were fun to experience.” 

“And?” Seto’s heart was beating loudly. _This is it._

“And?” Isis was unsure what else he was asking. 

“What did you think about this one?” There was an audible urgency in his voice. Isis interpreted this as Seto wanting more constructive feedback much like his ‘elite’ beta testers might give. 

“The opening ceremony was a spectacle for sure. Something that only Kaiba Corp could dream of and bringing into fruition.” 

“Well, yeah...” _Tell me something I don’t know. Seriously woman, get to the point already._

“The park itself is beautiful and a joy to be in.”

“And?” _She isn’t saying it. This isn’t how I imagined it!_

“Although, that might be a biased opinion as my brothers and I did not get to experience such pleasures in our deprived childhoods and therefore might have lower standards than a seasoned park enthusiast.” 

“Keep going…” _No way this is all she has to say._

“My brothers and I particularly enjoyed the carousel.”

“Really?” _Is this honestly it? All that hard work and imagining all the things she might say and she’s praising the fucking merry-go-round?_

“The catering is quite nice. My brother really enjoyed the cocktails. All in all quite fun,” Isis concluded her review with a smile. “Quite impressive. In a _good_ way.” 

“That’s it?” _Impressive in a good way is almost like saying she thinks of me differently, right?_

Seto’s unsatisfied face made Isis rack her brain for one last comment.

“Oh wait! You should give me the contact of your event planner because we could use something so impeccably organized like this. Honestly, the curational sciences and Egyptology conferences should host soirees like these.” 

“Seriously?” Seto felt a bit defeated on the inside and annoyed on the outside. _This is it? All that planning and listening to Mokuba go on about how Keiko was going to be impressed and that you could win any girl’s affections with stuff like this..._

“Yes, of course. The amount of donation money from wealthy benefactors would increase.”

_That’s it. Enough of the scenic route. I’m going to ask her directly._

“But what do you think about my... _company_?” Seto asked cautiously, struggling to not mumble the last word.

“Your company is a successful billion-dollar megacorporation. Donations from you would be extremely well appreciated, Seto.” 

_Not THAT kind of company!_

Seto shook his head in frustration but was too embarrassed to have to explain and repeat the question. Isis read the displeased expression on his face and understood his original intent.

“Oh, of course, Seto. Thank you for being able to stand my company and inviting me to these events. I know how you don’t always appreciate our family of ‘circus freaks’ but we really appreciate the olive branch.” 

_Almost, but no cigar._

“Olive branch?” Seto’s irritation lessened as he repeated the unfamiliar term. Isis noticed his confusion and elucidated. 

“Why yes, the olive branch.” Isis perked up as she got to explain a fact from her area of expertise. “In Ancient Egypt, it was used to symbolize peace. Many cultures still use it as such today. ”

“So peace negotiations?” Seto raised an eyebrow, baffled at how his grand gestures did not communicate anything romantic. 

“Yes. We haven’t always been on the best of terms, although that is primarily on your end. Admittedly our family problems and our shared Ancient Egyptian pasts were probably a bit much. But we appreciate that you think of us and are attempting in your own way be civil.” Isis put a hand over her chest and nodded her head. “I imagine it wasn’t easy for you.” Isis ended with a gentle smile. That’s when the truth hit Seto. 

_She thought I was trying to be CIVIL to her this whole time?_

Seto looked down at his lap, his bangs hanging from his head, blocking his eyes as he responded with a sudden eerie calm. 

“So was I _civil_ enough?” Isis was not so sure how to read Seto’s question with its unfamiliar tone.

“That is what you meant, isn’t it?” Isis asked earnestly. Seto lifted his head and saw the genuine confusion on her face. 

_I need to get the hell out of here._

“Yes.” Seto’s face hardened and his icy stare grew colder. Conveniently for Seto, the ride was slowing down. “Now excuse me, I have some matters to sort out.” With that Seto acrobatically jumped out of the hat and quickly exited the still moving ride, leaving Isis visibly confused and the ride operator vocally concerned.

* * *

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

Seto dashed to the nearest topiary he could find to deal with his unstable emotions without causing a scene. Hiding in the shadows of the manicured hedges and secluded from the more euphoric air of his party, Seto attempted to process why he felt so angry and utterly humiliated by someone who had no intention to do so. She earnestly talked of olive branches, and he felt like burning them in response. 

Objectively, the simplicity and straightforwardness of the answer was exactly what he wanted: she had said she was impressed. But what he truly wanted was something more than that. 

_No one_ who knew Seto’s shrewd and icy public image would suspect that he was trying to woo someone he was infatuated with. Seto was the ‘Ice Prince’ as the tabloids had dubbed him once he turned nineteen last October: handsome, wealthy, successful but unaware and uninterested in the affection of the people who tried to vie for his. And yet, here he was. Why was he so willing to use these grand ceremonies to impress this woman? Why did he care so much to know what her opinions on him and his actions, even as he habitually thought her opinions useless? 

Ten minutes ago he felt in control of the game. Ten minutes ago he was feeling confident in his success only to realize ten minutes later that the game hadn’t even started. So profoundly did she not think of him capable of grand gestures, that she reasoned all of this was an olive branch. 

_A fucking olive branch!_

_‘Kaiba! You could have just told her how you REALLY feel!’_

Great, now he was hearing the nagging baritone voice of Atem of all people. Even in his imagination, he was trying to convince him to do the heart of the cards equivalent in romance. Why would he leave himself vulnerable when he did not calculate or research all the potential risks of all her potential reactions? In running his business he took calculated risks yes, but they were _calculated_. And Seto was incredibly gifted in mathematics. 

He felt exposed and vulnerable. And vulnerability leads to weaknesses. Weakness leads to failure. As for what failure meant, he always remembered Gozoburo’s last words before he jumped off a skyscraper to plummet to his death. 

_‘Burn this into your brain! THIS is what a loser deserves.’_

_To lose means to die._

Now he heard Gozoburo’s voice taunting and belittling the notion that Seto couldn’t win in something like this. That he wasn’t man enough. That he was delusional for thinking the world is a kind and forgiving place. Seto grimaced almost in pain. Whenever he heard that voice criticizing him, taunting him to do better while insulting him, he felt more foolish even in areas outside of running Kaiba Corp. Matters of the heart were no different from what he was taught most other things in his life to be like: a war with clear victors.

As if on queue, the music from the park speakers started playing an unfamiliar upbeat yet melancholic American pop song with the lyrics of ‘love is a battlefield’.

It made Seto very angry.

_This music dares to mock me? I need to fire the DJ!_

He thought of how love did feel like a battlefield. This was just like Atem all over again. Except for this time he did have the intention to win someone’s romantic affections, an awareness that he lacked when he executed his antagonistic grand gestures for Atem. With Atem, love was very much a battlefield and he enjoyed every moment of it. There were clear outcomes of their duels and interactions. But Atem was no more, and he has more or less accepted this, even if he missed him and the bond they shared. 

He now had feelings for a ridiculous, intelligent, beautiful woman who did not even register his attempt at game. 

_Ugh! Why can’t I just duel my feelings away? It would be so much easier!_

_This is all because I listened to my teenage brother. I should have not listened to his romantic nonsense._

“Goddammit!” He muttered aloud to himself, right at the brief silence after the song ended. 

“Seto?” He heard Mokuba’s tentative voice in the dark. 

“Mokuba?” Seto hesitantly turned to see Mokuba seated on a park bench shielded by well-kept topiary. He approached him, internally chiding himself for not being more aware of his surroundings to not notice Mokuba’s presence. Once closer, he noticed something being a bit off about Mokuba in his body language. “What are you doing here?” He didn’t want to pry, but the least he could do is ask if he was handling whatever it was that was dulling his usual energetic demeanour to one that was more...gloomy? Mokuba turned to him with a half-hearted smile. 

“Seto! All our guests seem to be enjoying the party.” Mokuba’s naturally good-humoured tone was replaced with one that seemed forced with an undercurrent somberness. It was a subtle change that only an older brother would be able to read. He noticed Mokuba’s fingers get tight around a slim book he held between his hands. He couldn’t quite make out the words on the cover. It’s when Mokuba seemed to also pick up that Seto wasn’t also in the greatest of moods. “Seto? Did something happen?” 

Even now Seto sometimes forgot that the ability to understand his brother goes both ways. 

“Uh.. well. Small irrelevant stuff, I’ll get you over it.” Seto shrugged. “Though I could ask you the same questions…” 

Mokuba understood that his brother was waiting for him to explain himself. He attempted to straighten his body but then sighed and slackened his posture as he looked down at his feet. 

“I got into a major fight with Keiko…”

“Oh.” Seto knew his instincts were almost autopiloting towards his standard ‘you’ll get over it Mokuba, you can’t depend on others too much. They will only disappoint you.’ Maybe it was because he had made the same mistake, he knew this was not the time for the signature Seto Kaiba coldness.

Mokuba took Seto’s silence as permission to continue. “It started as a little fight honestly.” Mokuba shook his head as if remembering how silly it was. “I suppose...it was because I-I was talking to Rebecca.”

Seto was beginning to understand the thread of where this was going. He had seen the way Rebecca and Mokuba got along just half an hour ago, and how decidedly annoyed Keiko looked being left out of the conversation that they were having. He wanted to say that romance and vulnerability like this with people other than blood is ridiculous. He even wanted to share the Gozoburo Kaiba wisdom of trust no one unconditionally, even as Seto made a blatant exception to this for Mokuba. Instead, feeling empathetic to the humiliation of putting yourself out there, Seto took a breath decided to be gentle. He sat down next to Mokuba on the bench.

“Is she jealous that a duelist like Rebecca appreciates being here more than her, the almost princess?” Seto’s enduring nickname for Keiko was not one he used in front of her face, only to Mokuba whenever he seemed to have a minor spat with his girlfriend. It usually seemed to cheer him up. 

“She has the right to be jealous.” Mokuba turned his head away as if in shame. 

“Mokuba, what happened?” Seto demanded gently.

“It’s just..I don’t…” Mokuba turned around to face Seto but was having trouble finding the words. He ran his hands through his hair, messing up his coiffed mane. It reminded him of when his brother was younger and oblivious and uninterested in romance or in the refined image he adopted. “I just don’t understand how she caught me at the wrong place and wrong time that just completely _misconstrued_ the whole situation.” Mokuba closed his eyes in frustration. “Ugh...the compromising position Keiko caught us in didn’t help either!”

“Nhm…” Seto was getting really uncomfortable now. He really did not want to know what the words _compromising position_ meant in this context. He readjusted his legs as he sat on the bench, while trying to calculate how to play this. He thought he was going to have an indirect heart to heart about failed romances, not about deconstructing love triangles. 

“Yeah, so Rebecca and I talk a lot. We have a lot in common. She’s a duelist and I’m vice president of Kaiba Corp. Of course we would! I’ve also known her longer. I mean, I also kinda like that she’s a genius.” Seto frowned at hearing this, reminded of Pegasus’s prediction that this might become Mokuba’s ‘romantic type’. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love Keiko!” 

“Nhm?” Seto tried not to wince at the use of the word ‘love’. It seemed to be used rather flippantly.

Mokuba continued: “Yes, Keiko is very pretty, worldly and technically my senpai by one year. Why would I even have the intention of not taking our relationship so seriously when basically senpai noticed me this year?! All just because Rebecca and I kissed _accidentally_!” 

_Where is this going? Do I want to know?_

Seto was internally very horrified at how cliched of a high school J-dorama romance plot this misunderstanding was starting to sound like. He recalled overhearing the trivial and definitely avoidable love triangle dilemmas in high school of his more sexually active classmates. His conclusion to a lot of them is that teenagers do not know how to handle their hormones and that they were just wasting their time not doing something more worthwhile. 

Mokuba yelled in frustration, “She just misunderstood the situation and then broke my heart without asking my side of the story!”

“Ehh…”

“I know what you’re going to say, Seto: romance is foolish and a distraction. Especially at this age. And honestly, I think you’re right. I don’t think I will ever love again!” Mokuba’s voice tensed up as if trying to hold back tears.

Seto’s cold neutral gaze softened a bit. He turned his head to gape at the artificial lake in front of him for a few minutes. Gathering his thoughts as the voices of the party were muted by the wall-like topiary behind them. He then sighed and regarded the night sky, trying to find the right words, feeling his palms getting sweatier. He cleared his throat. 

“Mokuba...I-I don’t think it’s foolish. It’s nice to want to be liked like that mutually.” Seto raised a hand to smooth out his bangs. Mokuba turned to his older brother. 

_Clearly, I am on the right track._

* * *

Isis walked in the direction of the quiet nook she discovered an hour ago to get make a quick work call. The area she remembered being unoccupied was now being used by the two hosts of the party to have what appeared to be an intimate discussion. _Best turn around and find another spot._ But just as she was about to turn, she heard a clip of the conversation that caught her interest. 

“I know what you’re going to say, Seto: romance is foolish and a distraction. Especially at this age. And honestly, I think you’re right. I don’t think I will ever love again!” 

Normally she would walk away, aware that this was a conversation she was not meant to witness. She and Rishid did a fair amount of consoling Marik through his romantic heartbreaks in the past two years since they reconciled. But the combination of having seen the inklings of Mokuba’s love troubles and Seto’s silence made her curious enough to stay and eavesdrop. 

_This should be interesting. I wonder what he is going to say to Mokuba…_

“Mokuba, I-I don’t think it’s foolish to want to be liked like that mutually.” 

_Really?!_

“Really?!” Even Mokuba seemed to be surprised.

Seto looked deeply uncomfortable but was clearly fighting his natural urge to give him a ‘people are disappointing’ talk. The way he was smoothing out his hair out of sheer nervousness seemed almost…endearing?

“Yeah. Keiko clearly seemed to...enjoy your company and vice versa.” Seto looked out onto the water. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with wanting to… be..with someone you like like that.”

Mokuba let out a deep breath he was holding in. “Seto this sounds silly now, but I honestly thought you were going to call me an idiot for relying emotionally on other people like this. People you barely trust or know. Not saying that I didn’t trust Keiko... but I have only known her for 5 months now. You probably think it’s silly to care and trust someone like that so quickly.” 

Seto shrugged his shoulders because Mokuba clearly knew his brother.

Isis chuckled in her head at the memory of a moody teenager she entrusted to help save the world and her family even before meeting him and how he went along with it. More or less...even though it was for his own obsessive gain. _Although I did have a millennium necklace to guide me…_

“I think that I just...I’m just angry at myself and Keiko. She never asked me for my side of the story! How was I supposed to know that Rebecca would trip on a random crazy straw some bastard threw away as we were getting off the merry-go-round. Since I was the last person to get off, I tripped over Rebecca and ended up in a compromising position and accidentally kissed her.” Mokuba bashfully looked away. “Keiko was the first to get off, so by the time she turned around, she only saw the compromising part.”

_This sounds...ridiculous…_

Isis could see Seto struggling to not burst out into a condescending bought of laughter at his brother’s expense as every muscle on his face twitched trying to keep it together.

_Wait, did he mention a crazy straw near the merry-go-rou--_

“Keiko was so angry she ran away and then threw this book at me.” Mokuba showed Seto the slim black book he held in his hands. “It’s the signed first edition of _Une_ _Si Longue Lettre_ by Mariama Ba. You know the one I flew to Senegal to buy from the rare bookseller.”

“The one that helped you...eh...get a date with Keiko?” 

“Yes, the same.” Mokuba gave Seto a slight smile of appreciation from what Isis gathered was a detail that he was glad he remembered before turning back into a frown. “But not just that...she gave it back saying I was like Modou!” Although Seto’s blank response to this statement indicated he neither knew what this meant nor cared to know, Isis was familiar with feminist West African literature from her university days to vaguely remember Modou basically being the selfish husband who abandons his twelve children and wife to marry a younger woman who is his older daughter’s best friend. In summary: the furthest thing from a compliment. Mokuba continued, “She then told me to keep the poem in the book.” Mokuba opened up the book to reveal a sheet of paper that showed some kind of typed out note. Seto looked at it before commenting.

“It sounds like she wrote you a stupid love poem,” Seto mocked. 

Mokuba coughed into a fist to hide his embarrassment. “This is actually a poem I wrote for her. The poem made her see I really like her and took her interests seriously.”

Seto was speechless. “Mokuba...I am impressed. The weekend plane ride to Senegal? Exploiting your personal assistant’s literature major to track down the first edition of this book? Then asking Isono to go on that mission to reunite the family in return for the signed version of the book? You went through all of that, all that trouble just to impress a girl.” 

_Did he really do all of that? It certainly helps to be rich and have influence to woo someone. Must be some girl._

“Keiko is not _just_ any girl! She’s special. Not that it matters but she also happens to be the daughter of a former Koshitsu princess. So yeah, not just an ordinary girl.” 

“I see.” Seto smirked. “What are you going to do now?” 

“I don’t know. You probably think I’m being a dramatic teenager…”

“You forget your talking to me here...” Mokuba laughed at Seto’s self-awareness before continuing.

“It just feels like love is hard and Keiko won’t believe me or even listen to me. Does this mean I have to do something fantastic and grand like those American movies?” Mokuba posed this question half sarcastically. But Seto wasn’t buying the sarcasm.

“Another grand gesture to win her back?” Seto clarified in a more serious tone. Mokuba decided to throw sarcasm to the wind and be more earnest.

“Yes! You’re right I need to do just that!” Mokuba stood up with renewed hope.

“Mokuba sit back down.” Seto's tone increased in intensity and Mokuba sat back down a little deflated at being discouraged. “Listen, I may not have any dating advice,”

“Because you think dating is a waste of your time.” Mokuba finished the sentence, evidently having heard this speech from his older brother before. There was a brief pause before Seto answered. 

“...Yes. Look, what I can say is that grand gestures...might not solve all your love troubles.” Seto shifted his eyes away from Mokuba. “Speaking from experience.” He almost mumbled the last bit. 

_Experience?_

Mokuba was on the same train of thought as Isis and he dared to ask the billion yen question: “Seto...do you like someone?” Seto’s eyes widened in mild panic away from Mokuba’s view before returning to his calmer expression as he turned back to look at him. 

“Eh..liking is childish and uncertain,” Seto shrugged. “I _was_ just trying to impress someone once.”

_Was? So he does admit he had a thing for Atem?_

Mokuba’s face lit up, he turned to his older brother practically bouncing in seat at this exciting admission. “Was? As in recently? How recent? Seto! Who is it?” Mokuba had an endless barrage of questions, getting more exhilarated the more Seto refused to answer.

“ _Who_ it is… is not the point here.”

“Seto…” Mokuba groaned. 

“The point is…”

“It was totally, Yugi! No! The other Yugi!”

“N-no!” Then Seto paused and she could see him making calculations in his head. “His name was _Atem,”_ he corrected. Mokuba’s eyes got really wide as if stumbling on a revelation. 

“The coliseum stage for Battle City! I remember you starting to program it by yourself for your game with Yugi even before the finals. Was that a grand gesture?” Seto’s expression didn’t change to indicate anything. “We all thought you were obsessed with him because he beat you, and some people even hinted that you might have had a thing for him. But it all makes sense now.”

_He addressed the elephant in the room._

“Yes.” He finally admitted. “See how I lost anyways and was disappointed by the result?” 

“And you ended up blowing up an island because you were feeling _extremely_ petty…”

Seto sighed, “Yeah yeah, you get the idea, don’t you? Sometimes grand gestures can send all the right signals, even making the person admit how genuinely impressed with everything they are. Like how impressed they are with the party and ceremony and how well organized it is.” 

The wheels in Isis’s perceptive mind started spinning. Her hand went up to her bare neck as she continued to watch. 

“But aren’t you trying to impress them? Isn’t that the point?”

“Yeah, but if that’s all it is and nothing more, I’m not so sure it is winning their romantic affections.”

“Like Atem didn’t stay back. Or say anything to you before he left.” At Mokuba’s astute comment, Seto’s face tensed up with stressed lines and wide eyes, an expression conveying both pain, anger and loss. For a second Isis was scared that Seto was going to lash out at his younger brother. 

But then he took a deep breath and sighed deeply. He turned to look at Mokuba with a half-defeated smile. 

“Yeah. Like that.”

* * *

“Madame Secretary-General, you have Mr. Pegasus on line 1.”

Isis was reviewing some excavation records and grant applications spread out on her desk when her secretary chimed in with the announcement. She pressed the button and put the call on speaker. 

“Pegasus, how are you?” Isis collected some of the papers and neatly bunched them as she spoke. She supposed Pegasus was a good enough distraction to stave of the neck strain. 

“Isis! How lovely to hear your voice after the meeting I just had.” She could hear Pegasus filling up a conciliatory glass of wine. “I keep saying never again, but honestly, I love the attention sometimes. How are you m’dear?”

“Good actually. Although paperwork is quite tedious. Especially when I need to print out the documents. Having to read them on these computer screens is cumbersome.” Isis clicked the end of a red pen and used it to annotate parts of a document. 

“Surely you have staff to help you with that? I sleep better knowing I have a fine team of dedicated people working under me.” 

“I don’t exactly have a millennium item to predict errors in the grant applications I am reviewing,” Isis joked. “Pointing out grave oversights with the necklace is how I became Secretary-General in the first place. I wouldn’t want to lose this job because someone else pointed out my mistakes.”

Pegasus chuckled before responding “Indeed you were quite the formidable twenty year old to get the position so young. Especially with no nepotism or personal connections were involved.” She heard him take a sip of his drink before continuing. “Although it would be quite unusual for you to use the necklace to prevent errors.” Isis caught the implication. Using clairvoyant powers to correct and change fates seemed counterintuitive to Isis’s more fatalistic tendencies. 

“I suppose I owe that to Seto.” Isis smiled fondly as she leaned back in her chair. 

“He is remarkable, isn’t he?” Pegasus stated plainly.

“Yes, indeed.” Isis and Pegasus both shared a view of Seto that was part awe and part amusement. He was an exceptional young man, but execution and world view often skirted the hilarious and entertaining from the sheer boldness of his actions. They just wanted to see him succeed in his signature style. 

The two spend the next ten minutes exchanging small talk and stories. Their working relationship over the years has allowed them to become good friends. After all, friends who understand the power of the millennium items, pharaohs and the ancient history of Duel Monsters are rather in short supply. 

“I suppose I’ll see you at the shareholder meeting afterparty in Domino City. I’m sure Kaiba-boy has invited you to this as well.” Pegasus began to say his goodbyes but the throw-away comment made Isis pause. 

“He didn’t actually,” Isis corrected nonchalantly and was surprised when Pegasus went silent for a brief moment. “Pegasus?”

“It seems like Kaiba-boy has gotten over a recent emotional “distraction” as he would say.” Pegasus expressed this in a sing-songy voice that said ‘I know something you don’t know’. 

“Oh yes, I heard him admit to Mokuba that he had feelings for the Pharaoh.” 

“Really?” Pegasus was stunned. 

“Really.” Both he and Isis had spent much of their recent friendship psychoanalyzing the complicated man that is Seto Kaiba. It was initially a polite conversation starter now turned into a habitual hobby. Pegasus dubbed it their Kaiba Bulletin. 

“My, my! That is another discovery on its own but that was not what I was referring to. Kaiba-boy was no doubt trying to impress a certain Madame Secretary-General of the Supreme Council of Antiquities…” Isis immediately sat up straight. 

“He...was? Hmm, I honestly thought he was trying to be a decent human being.” Her attempt at feigning ignorance couldn’t have fooled her brothers and especially Pegasus in person. But luckily this conversation was over the phone. 

“You did? I guess the feelings weren’t mutual.” She could hear Pegasus fiddling with his glass as it clinked against something. “What a shame. The two of you would have been...entertaining to watch.” Pegasus was disappointed. 

“Well…” Isis was still processing the conversation she had overheard at Kaibaland Macau a week ago. Based on the candid exchange between two Kaiba brothers, Mokuba was trying to impress someone with his grand gesture which conveniently doubled as a business venture. Mokuba, she deduced had tried and failed to dazzle his high school girlfriend. She left the party exchanging only a few polite words with Seto not giving his words to Mokuba too much thought. Then the next day, when she and her siblings were walking the cobblestoned streets of historic Macau and savouring the black sesame egg rolls and almond biscuits from a famous Macanese bakery, Marik and Rishid commented how the treats were ‘impressive’. The use of that word in particular made Isis think of the conversation that she and Seto had in the giant rotating hat. He kept asking her what she thought of his park and the ceremony. He also asked her what she thought of his company. He then hinted at this same conversation with his heart-to-heart with Mokuba. 

She didn’t have solid proof, but Isis came to the realization that Seto Kaiba might be trying to woo her. And now Pegasus's comments corroborated that this might be actually true or rather _was_ true. 

To be honest she was flattered as anyone would be to be admired by someone who she did respect. She just didn’t understand what she could have possibly done to turn his general tolerance of her to...inkling of a romantic interest? This transition in itself was what made this feel surreal. She was still trying to process that she of all people, a person whose worldview greatly conflicts with his own, who he constantly derided as ridiculous, was the object of his affections. 

Isis must have not said anything for a while as she got lost in her thoughts as Pegasus finally spoke, breaking the silence. 

“Isis Ishtar are you telling me you have a thing for the Great Seto Kaiba? “ Isis could tell he was prodding her for her thoughts on Seto as a potential romantic partner.

“I wonder this myself.” She could hear the barely contained giggle from his end at her admission before she quickly clarified. “As in, I wonder what I did that made him think of me this way. And besides, I don’t have solid proof that it is me he was trying to _impress_.”

“Well, how do you intend to find out? Surely the first step would be to confirm this.” Pegasus teased. “Certainly asking him outright after feeling a bit rejected would hardly lead to results. The boy is not used to losing, not least being reminded of it.”

Isis stewed in her thoughts. The question wasn’t whether she wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with Seto Kaiba, it was more whether she had the capacity to take on the baggage and uncertainty that came with it. Isis didn’t have an extensive dating history, but being the child of the politically ambitious union of her parents and going to regular family therapy with her brothers to unpack the generational trauma, she had a good understanding of her boundaries and needs in a romantic relationship. All the signs pointed out that Seto did see her as romantic material at some point. The question was what was she going to do with this information. But first, she had to know for sure.

Why? 

Maybe because after seeing him with Mokuba that evening. It told her a lot of things about him and a lot of things about what she was looking for. 

“Pegasus,” Isis, at last, spoke. “Did the shareholders meeting have room for a plus one?” Pegasus chuckled mischievously understanding the intention of her question immediately. 

“Why, yes.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -what was fun about writing Kaibaland Macau is just imagining Duel Monsters based rides. I even looked up videos of the teacup ride in Disneyland Tokyo to get a sense of what this ride might look like. 
> 
> -Also the company vs Company joke is shamelessly inspired by a great line in JustAWrightingAmateur’s Christmas trustshipping fic. 
> 
> -Did a lot of research on olives in the ancient world this chapter. Olives originating from Syria and Palestine have been used as symbols of peace throughout the Fertile Crescent and Greece. I was reading somewhere that Ancient Egyptians were the first to depict it as such after I used the olive branch analogy in a previous chapter. Yay for coincidently working out all for Isis to say her classic conversation starter 'In Ancient Egypt (insert fact here)"
> 
> -the gratuitous mention of Senegalese author Mariama Ba and her seminal work Une Si Longue Lettre (So Long A Letter) is to spread knowledge of this great West African feminist writer. Isis who is in a diplomatic position would probably know quite a few languages, especially major ones like English and French since Britain and France have soooo many Egyptian antiquities in their museums which they stole. She probably had to familiarize herself with works of culture outside of the Western canon and probably connected with African feminist post-colonial literature which often features a new generation of women coming into the world to be leaders and creators while the older generation of woman and men who misinterpret cultural and religious traditions to try to hold them back because they refuse to evolve. Why would Keiko, a fourteen-year-old distant member of the Japanese Royal family know of this novel? She is a classy lady. 
> 
> -not saying that Seto watches Japanese high school romance dramas but he would be aware of the tropes by cultural osmosis. 
> 
> -the crazy straw is a brick joke from the previous chapter lol 
> 
> -remembered that since Isis is the Secretary-General of the Supreme Council of Antiquities, she would be styled as Madame Secretary-General.
> 
> -again, learning so much about Macau for this and the last chapter from research. Egg rolls and almond cookies are THE items to get at a Macanese bakery 
> 
> The next step is falling in love arc in which Isis attempts to woo tsundere Seto. 
> 
> P.S. I just noticed that the tumblr prompt I shared was the wrong link in the first chapter! Fixed it, but here it is again for reference (it also has insightful lost in translation commentary between the Japanese and English manga in terms of trustshipping)  
> https://headlessknight.tumblr.com/post/26110152535


	8. Seducing Mr. Kaiba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto doesn't want to see Isis again but Isis has other ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that in the past two months I have not updated this story I have received more encouraging comments to continue! Thank you! Feedback is always a big motivator to keep writing and completing multi-chaptered fics. Having time to write during a pandemic is also helpful as well. Wishing you all safety and good health.

_At least this will keep my mind off her._

“Welcome all to the 2000 Kaiba Corp Shareholder and Investor Meeting Q and A!” Mokuba Kaiba enthusiastically spoke into the microphone set on the long black table in front of him. He caught the attention of the well-dressed audience in the dimly lit theatre. “As the Vice President of the company, I can assure you we have some exciting plans and numbers to share with you all. And one hell of an afterparty too! ” Mokuba gestured to the giant screen behind him showing informative numbers and graphs before it returned to display the KC logo. “As KC dives into the new century, we hope that this weekend’s meeting will bolster our firm's reputation as an undisputed juggernaut that will thrive in another millennium.” 

The audience politely applauded. 

“Hell, we even survived Y2K!” 

The audience laughed. 

“Though seriously, my brother would like everyone to know that we avoided a potential crisis with our computer chips because he had the foresight to make sure the date values were already converted to four digits, five years before everyone started panicking about it” 

The audience quickly pretended they didn’t just laugh at the Y2K comment. 

“But before we open up the floor for questions let’s see if the President has any opening words.” Mokuba turned to his older brother who sat beside him in a white business suit, arms crossed with a stern gaze. “Seto?” 

Seto said nothing except for a communicative grunt. 

“To the Q and A, it is then,” Mokuba said as he turned back towards the audience. “Who would like to go first?”

A spotlight shined on a man wearing an expensive suit, holding an ornamental cane. His English had a noticeable Italian rhythm. “Following the success of Kaibaland Macau’s opening recently, there have been offers from countries in other markets to be potential sites for another theme park. Will there be more Kaibalands?” 

Mokuba decided to answer this one with a rehearsed reply, “the success of each park is based on their ability to evoke an immersive world of fantasy and play. The elaborate events at each of these parks, such as our tournaments and...opening ceremonies,” Mokuba failed to hide the slight contortion of his face as he said ‘opening ceremony’. “These _events_ require extensive use of our financial resources and are risky. Seto and I agree that we want to keep working on improving the two parks we do already have. Next question!” 

The spotlight highlighted another member of the audience. This time a middle-aged woman in a stylish cheongsam. “In regards to Kaibaland Macau’s opening ceremony, while spectacular and generated excellent press, some have expressed that it was rather expensive and even excessive even by KC standards.” 

Seto gave a quick glance towards Mokuba who seemed almost stunned into silence by the question. 

_I guess I need to play the big brother here._

“Of course it was a showstopper of an opening ceremony. We had significant financial support from the Macau government to build a whole new island for our theme park, big enough to house a coliseum and at least four themed areas. Next question!” Seto tapped a finger on one of his crossed arms in an attempt to mitigate his annoyance. 

The spotlight then went to another place in the audience to reveal a balding middle-aged man in a grey suit. “While the Duel Disk 2.0 S sales have been impressive, they do fall short compared to the sales of the first duel disk. Some have suggested that the product is too similar to the original. What do you chalk up the relatively lower sales of the new Duel Disk to?”

Seto made no attempt to hide his annoyance at such a question. The new Duel Disk had only been released a couple of weeks ago and there were a few tournaments in the works to promote it much like Battle City had. 

“I believe I should step in to answer this one Kaiba-boy,” the spotlight appeared on a lean man with long silver hair in a decorated red suit. 

_He’s literally stealing the spotlight._

Seto wasn’t exactly thrilled to see him, especially since he was the one who sowed the seeds to his first romantic humiliation less than two weeks ago, but at least Pegasus was willing to answer this question for him. 

“The previous Duel Disk’s success is largely due to the excellent promotion it got with the Battle City tournament. It showcased the portability of Duel Monsters. Kaiba-boy and I have a tournament or two planned within this fiscal quarter to promote the new Duel Disk.” Pegasus then tilted his head and gave a visible smirk. “One of them is a sequel to the highly successful Battle City. Why I am in close contact with one of the original consultants for the first tournament who happens to work in the Egyptian government.“

In that instant, Seto swore he saw a bit of gold jewelry twinkling in the spotlight around the shoulder of the person sitting next to Pegasus. But before he could process it, the spotlight went off to shine on someone else in the audience. This time a white-haired elderly woman wearing a muted kimono. 

“You boys are doing an excellent job running KC, an astounding success in your very capable hands. I know you two are fairly young, but Seto here is going to be eligible to attend Coming of Age Day next year. Have you started to think about succession plans such as starting a family or adopting?”

Seto groaned to himself as he was asked such a personal question he had not given much thought to yet. However, he would officially be an adult on his twentieth birthday this year and it came with expectations. In the many decades that Kaiba Corp had existed, it was always run by the Kaiba family be it by adoption or blood. Older and more loyal shareholders valued this structure as they were strong believers of nepotism. The history of sons constantly initiating hostile takeovers against their fathers was a Kaiba family tradition that proved to shareholders that the new generation had the chops to lead the company. Mokuba knew his brother well enough to know that this topic of succession was very alienating and uncomfortable for Seto. He confessed to his crush on a long-gone Ancient Egyptian rival only less than two weeks ago. He decided to answer the question for his brother.

“Look, succession is something Seto and I don’t have to think about for at least another five years or another decade maybe. I can assure you that we both are in good health. Next question.” 

Another elderly shareholder in traditional Japanese garb stood up to speak. “To add on to that previous question, has Seto started thinking about seeking out potential partners? Particularly ones that might increase KC’s capital and prestige much like your predecessors? I heard Mokuba _was_ dating my grand niece who is a member of the royal family, emphasis on the _was_.” 

Mokuba was once again speechless, especially when a great uncle of his former girlfriend was using a shareholder Q and A to interrogate him about the failed relationship so publically. It was Seto’s turn to step in for his younger brother.

“Again, much like Mokuba stated, there is no urgency to this. We are aware that should we pursue partnerships of that nature, our potential spouses would have to satisfy a very high calibre.” _Hell, I’ll get someone so much better than that ridiculous woman. That will show her!_ Seto closed his eyes and rubbed his right temple with his hand. “Next question! And I forbid any more questions on this topic!” 

“KC’s history of hostile takeovers by various company executives and even shareholders has created instability in the past.” 

_That voice—_

Seto stopped rubbing his head and opened his eyes to see the spotlight shining on the _last_ person he wanted to see right now.

Isis was standing in the light wearing a flattering black dress accessorized with antique gold jewelry. Was Seto absolutely livid? Yes. Did Seto also find the sight gorgeous? Definitely. He gave her a fervent wide-eyed stare as if he had seen a ghost. Isis did not seem to notice this and continued her question. 

“Are there procedures in place to prevent such attacks which aim to dislodge your leadership of the company?” 

_Why the fuck is she here?!?_

* * *

Just when Seto was done trying to woo the ridiculous woman, Isis finds a way to remind him of his humiliation. There she was, sitting at one of the white-clothed round tables watching the comedy show with that neutral yet unintentionally intense expression. _I need to fire the one responsible!_ His face formed a scowl at seeing her here, not that he was particularly fond of being at this part of the annual shareholder meeting in the first place.

Seto stood at the edge of the room, surveying the tables of well-dressed guests in the dimly lit theatre. The comedy show featured a well-known English comedian who his planning committee (but mostly Mokuba) suggested he would be perfect for the international audience. 

_“Don’t you know Seto, subtle British humour is all the rage these days!”_

_At least he doesn’t expect me to like it._

These indulgent bits, the extravagant afterparty and celebrity appearances after the legally required shareholder procedures, was part of a new strategy to stave off any more shareholder coups and threats to him and his brother. Keeping the shareholders happy was a way to keep loyalties in line. 

A silver-haired man leaned in closer to Isis’s ear, whispering something under the hand he held over his mouth. _Pegasus._ Whatever it was, it made her raise a demure hand towards her mouth and giggle, clearly finding his quips much more amusing than the comedian on stage. 

Seto’s increasing annoyance and the need to be really petty stopped in his tracks when he heard a poorly hidden sniffle next to him.

“Mokuba,” Seto warned, “did Keiko suggest this comedian?” Mokuba rubbed his eyes hurriedly trying to not make Seto even more annoyed after being caught. 

“Ehh…” Mokuba sighed in admittance. “Well...yes. I know I shouldn’t think about the girl who wanted a break but watching this guy is just reminding me of how we’re not seeing each other at the moment. Even if it’s temporary.” Mokuba’s voice turned uncharacteristically venomous. 

“Nhm...” Seto cleared his throat trying to rack his brain for a response. 

_Is this how petty I sounded at that age?_

“You’re right bro, I need to focus on this right now.” Mokuba pulled himself together, adjusting his necktie and shirt cuffs. He straightened his neck and inhaled. The attempt to regain composure was futile when seconds later Mokuba was audibly teary-eyed again.

“Mokuba,” Seto was losing his patience. The combination of Isis's presence and Mokuba’s first romantic failure was irritating and heading towards full outrage. Luckily Mokuba knew his brother’s boundaries. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Mokuba apologized before he pivoted to another subject. “Also, I didn’t know Isis was a shareholder. I was surprised to see her at the Q and A. And that she knew so much about our history of hostile takeovers.” Mokuba chuckled as he prepared to retell a very familiar joke, “maybe Isis saw all that when she had that necklace. Or she read the section about our tradition of hostile takeovers in the shareholder’s primer.” 

“She’s not a shareholder. ” Kaiba emphasized without having to clarify who the ‘him’ was.“I didn’t invite her. I’m trying to snuff out the person who did. Someone messed up big time and they are going to pay.” 

“Ah, don’t be too hard on them bro, they probably just assumed you made a mistake or something.” Mokuba’s voice turned empathetic though not towards his brother. Seto Kaiba may have no qualms with brutally enforcing his impossibly high standards, but this would eventually be Mokuba’s problem to manage. A while back Kaiba demanded R & D to fire the one responsible for designing what he considered to be a poorly made rectangular water bottle after using it as a makeshift stress ball. The department did nothing because he didn’t say who to fire specifically. There was an unspoken rule that if Mr. Kaiba didn’t put a face to the failure, then there would be no need to arbitrarily punish a talented employee. However, if there was a specific name in mind, Mokuba would have to find a way to rehire the invaluable employee, hiding them away in another role or department until Seto forgot about why they were fired in the first place. If Seto was aware of this he didn’t say anything, probably not wanting to waste energy with people who did not anticipate his high standards. This is why Mokuba was the VP. He was good at balancing the happiness of both the employees and of Seto. 

“Someone made a mistake of inviting Isis to a shareholder meeting which she clearly shouldn’t be at! I will find and fire the person responsible! I highly doubt that Miss Destiny and Magic would be interested in investing in Kaiba Corp, never mind afford to be a shareholder. She’s too interested in long-dead mummies.” 

“You never know, she might have foreseen that she should invest in owning Kaiba Corp stock in the future. She did use a necklace to convince you to run a tournament that increased Kaiba Corp profits by 15% that year.” 

“Very funny,” Seto replied acridly. _Don’t remind me._

“What? You have been inviting her to a lot of things. That’s what her brothers told me. Something about peace pipes?” 

“Peace pipes? What are we, drug dealers?!”

“Sorry, not peace pipes,” Mokuba shook his head at his mistake. “Olive branches. You know goodwill peace missions. I mean, they are aware you don’t like them, you’re always eager to remind them of that. But you have to admit it’s a funny analogy. Makes you seem like some Nobel Peace Prize-winning diplomat.” 

“She is a high ranking government official. I’m pretty sure she has better things to do. Yet she is here somehow. I didn’t invite her to this!” Seto scowled not really trying to hide his disdain at Isis’s mere presence in the room.

“Yes, that much is pretty obvious. Pegasus probably decided to bring a plus one along,” Mokuba shrugged and sighed. And then, a thought dawned on Mokuba that made him smirk mischievously. “Do you think that...Pegasus and Isis….?”

Seto caught the implication. 

“Perish the thought!” Seto replied a little too eagerly. 

“They would make a cute couple. The two of them have so much in common,” Mokuba was only half-joking. Seto knew of course that Pegasus would discourage such associations because he was quite open that he wanted to see a specific younger man get together with Isis. He may have not said it outright but he got the gist from all the coy comments and earnest lectures. Seto was reluctant to share this with Mokuba because it might give him similar ideas. 

“Of course not. They’re just good friends.” 

“Ah,” Mokuba nodded. “I guess you would know better.” 

Seto turned his head to look at Isis again and remembered how annoyed he was internally, almost glaring at her in growing anger at the idea he wanted to be vulnerable to her. What was worse is living with the humiliation that _the_ Seto Kaiba, despite all his brains and resources, failed to impress a romantic interest her in the right way. There were two conclusions from this embarrassing chapter of his life that he came to accept. The first is that had he said anything to Atem, he would have very much ended up as he was now: vulnerable, hurt and unsatisfied. The reassurance of a doomed attempt at a relationship with Atem gave Seto solace from his unprocessed and well-hidden regret. The second conclusion is that the chain of events did not earth-shatteringly disprove of his cynical world view on human nature.

_I was being stupid. Romance is just like any other game. And it’s not worth my precious time._

Seto realized that he had spent the last few moments giving Isis a really intense Kaiba stare when she turned her head and caught his gaze. His heart pounded in his chest and quickly turned towards another direction.

“I have better things to do,” Seto said as he crossed his arms visibly irritated. 

“Yeah, I guess the comedian is not to your taste. Not mine either go be honest.” Mokuba grumbled the last bit mostly to himself. 

Seto looked through the corner of his eye to take a furtive glance back at Isis’s intense gaze but was disappointed to find that she was busy laughing and socializing with Pegasus and the other guests at her table. 

Mokuba sighed before speaking. “Honestly I’m glad Keiko isn’t here. I wouldn’t want her to see me like this. Especially after her relative tried to grill me about her during a shareholder meeting. It’s the type of thing that makes me want to hide under a table.” 

Seto laughed cynically at the image of Mokuba hiding from his shareholders. “Now, now, have some dignity, Mokuba. That’s no way for a vice president to act.”

* * *

“He’s displeased at my presence here,” Isis commented to her eccentric companion as the younger guests migrated to the dance floor. The comedy show was the preamble to the star attraction: a personal concert with a world-renowned Spanish pop-star that only Kaiba Corp money could buy. The older attendees who did not share such current tastes in music were running a poker and mahjong tournament in the ballrooms next door. 

“Sorry didn’t catch that?” Pegasus was happily singing along with the crowd from the dinner table he and Isis sat at.

“Seto. He knows I am here. I caught him staring at me a couple of times during the comedy bit.” Isis fingered the stem of her dessert wine glass in deep thought. “And I know he was staring at me because he was giving me that same glare he did at the Q and A.” Pegasus clapped his hands and laughed at remembering the deliciously infuriated look on Seto’s face. 

“I do love your bold tactics, Isis. I can see how you managed to get his attention in the first place.” Pegasus turned around to see Kaiba glaring towards their general direction, behind the dark silhouettes of raised hands on the dance floor. Before Pegasus could wave his hand to catch Seto’s attention, he turned away to look at the stage. “Perhaps you were a little too bold this time, m’dear. He’s clearly angry at one of us and yet strangely he does not have the decency to come up to us and give us a good verbal insult. He’s not shy to let people know what he thinks of them.” 

Isis slowly nodded her head before she spoke. “It’s quite unusual of him for sure.” 

“Did you say something to poor Kaiba-boy the last time you spoke to him?” Isis closed her eyes to think of what she could have done to warrant Seto’s hesitance to confront her.

“All I said was that I enjoyed the opening ceremony, the park and his company. And that I appreciated the newfound civility towards me.” 

“Hmm...I believe his expectations were inflated.” Pegasus leaned back into his chair and tapped his chin. 

“Inflated?” Isis raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes. But nevermind that. Have you given more thought to what you want to do with Kaiba-boy once you confirm his feelings for you?” 

Isis sighed, “we have yet to ascertain anything, Pegasus. We’re operating on hunches here.” Pegasus shook his head. 

“My dear Isis, I have known Kaiba-boy for years now. What started as friendly teasing on my part clearly blossomed into ideas. Those romantic inklings would not have bloomed had there not been seeds planted in the first place. I’ve seen it towards the Pharaoh and I see it towards you now. He’s far from an easily impressionable young man. Speaking as someone who has successfully manipulated him in the past. Let me tell you, not an easy task.” Pegasus turned to look at Seto’s silhouette across the room.

Isis followed his gaze and took in the sight of the moving stage lights that occasionally revealed parts of Seto’s angular face and white suit. He had many admirable qualities and he wasn’t too bad looking either. 

“I’ll be honest, a part of me is still fascinated and baffled by it all. Baffled because I am not sure how I managed to catch his fancy given our hostile history. We both come from very different worlds despite our shared ancient past. And I know our ancient selves have a bit of a history together. although I didn’t look into the details of it too much.” Isis’s right hand went to her neck, clearly missing the presence of a power no longer within her reach. “I saw a handful of visions, long before I met him to give them any thought or significance. I was trying to use its power to save my brother after all. But I did once see memories of our ancient selves having, “ a pause, “intimate moments.” 

Isis closed her eyes recalling brief flickers of foggy visions that the necklace showed her amongst the chaos of the more urgent ones. After the Pharaoh returned to the afterlife she felt like the memories of her past self were of a well-acquainted stranger and less like of her own. Life after the Pharaoh was difficult yet liberating because there were no prophecies, visions or instructions written on stone tablets to guide her. She could live her life however she chose to. Isis wondered what Seto thought of his past self and his connection to Kisara. She looked at the giant Blue-Eyes White Dragon feature wall in the room and knew that the trip to the past did not dampen his love for the creature. 

“Regardless, to know that he was trying to woo me this whole time is...fascinating. It was very hard to even see his attempts as such. Who knew?” 

“Kaiba boy is inexperienced in romance. But we both already suspected this,” Pegasus commented as he shrugged with his shoulders and hands.

“Indeed. Although if I were to sit and introspect, I’m not so sure why I came along and did something so bold as this, logically speaking. I do not have a necklace to guide me and accurately predict everything. With it, I knew where my words and actions would land me. I suppose I was curious but I could have found out his intentions towards me on my own in other indirect ways, certainly at another time.”

“Not sure how exactly. Knowing how petty he can be, he probably told his staff to strike your name off the KC events list and banned you from calling or scheduling a meeting. You don’t have the power of premonition to seamlessly navigate these barriers anymore. I have trouble getting ahold of him in person or on the phone for long enough as it is. He does the bare minimum to keep in contact with me because I own the rights to the Blue-Eyes White Dragon.” Pegasus sounded quite pleased at the last statement.

“I suppose sneaking me in as your plus was my best option after all.” Isis slightly curved her lips into a smile as she turned to look at Seto again. “I do want to hear it from him.” Pegasus sat up straight in his chair and uncrossed his arms to wave a hand. 

“Yes, yes we’ve already established all this. What do you hope to do when you find out he does like you in a romantic sense?” Pegasus looked at Isis with a serious expression. 

“I wouldn’t turn him away. I might suggest a date.” A knowing smile grew on Pegasus’s face at Isis’s admission. “ _But_ , nothing has been established yet.” 

“But it _will_ be,” Pegasus sang.

“We’ll see,” Isis replied calmly, but something about this made her heart skip a beat. 

“At least give it a go, you know?” Pegasus placed a hand on her shoulder with a gentle smile. Isis smiled back in return and placed a hand on top of it.

“Yes, of course. I’m already here after all.” Perhaps Isis was still getting used to living a guardrail free life, but the uncertainty of the potential futures she could have with Seto gave her a natural high. 

* * *

_They seem close._

“They seem close,” Mokuba commented as he followed his older brother’s gaze to the sight of Pegasus and Isis sharing an intimate moment together. His hand was on her shoulder and her hand over his as they looked at each other with a confidential smile. “You sure they aren’t going out, Seto?” 

Seto didn’t say anything but he was visibly annoyed. 

“Maybe we should go say hi to them,” Mokuba said as he began to raise his arm to catch their attention. 

“Mokuba!” Seto’s more aggressive tone of voice nipped Mokuba’s hand wave before it caught their attention. “We have to review the votes from the board of directors for tomorrow’s session.”

The two brothers exited the room into the large corridor of the convention centre. Against the large windows framing the million illuminated dots of the Domino City skyline, were white-clothed tables with rows of elaborate drinks, 5 different specialty drink stations and an open bar. The hallway was relatively empty, with a small gathering of guests, mingling and refreshing themselves in this quieter setting. 

“Oh! Before we do some business, mind if we grab some drinks?” Mokuba asked as he pointed a thumb towards a table featuring a bubble tea stand attended by a member of the catering staff. Seto agreed to get drinks. He noticed that Mokuba deliberately had his back towards a table full of overly decorated pink mocktails with ornamental curly straws. Seto supposed it reminded Mokuba of the crazy straw that caused Keiko and him to end things. Or go on a break? He wasn’t so sure what the difference was. 

Seto and Mokuba walked up to the bubble tea table and as the attendant took down their order. While they waited for their drinks, Mokuba grew agitated at something standing behind Seto.

“Mokuba? What happened?” Seto then turned to look to see an elderly man in traditional Japanese clothes, chatting with some of the attendees in the distance. Suddenly, a panicked Mokuba lifted the tablecloth of the bubble tea table and crawled under it. Both the tea attendant and Seto were partly in shock and partly in denial. Did they actually witness the Vice President of KC cowering under a table? Either way, it was not the proper way for a VP to behave. Seto lifted the cloth to give Mokuba a stern lecture. 

“Mokuba, what the hell are you doing?” Seto whispered angrily to a terrified looking Mokuba. 

“Seto pretend I’m not here,” Mokuba whispered back to his brother. “ I can’t be forced to talk to one of her relatives. You saw him in the Q and A, the man went straight for the jugular! He’s ruthless!” 

Before Seto could respond, his attention was caught by the sound of Keiko’s relative greeting “Mr. Pegasus!” in really loud English. And then he saw Isis exiting through the loud ballroom's doors to join the two men and placed a hand on Pegasus’ shoulder. Seto’s eyes turned wide-eyed and a scary, implication came to his mind. 

Maybe, just maybe, Isis and Pegasus are together.

Maybe just maybe he was denying the signs because the thought of those two together now seemed like a profound act of betrayal. 

Maybe, just maybe he was so hurt and angry because he still really liked Isis after all, and he was just lying to himself. 

Just like he lied to himself that he didn’t have feelings towards Atem.

One of the three suggested they continue the conversation over some refreshments. When he saw them almost turn their head towards his general direction, Seto panicked. Using the quickest reflexes, Seto lifted the table cloth and joined Mokuba under the table. 

“Seto?” Mokuba was surprised to see his older brother contorting his tall frame to fit under the table while trying and almost failing to not bang his head against it.

“My grand niece keeps talking about bubble tea after going to Taiwan last year. I’m tempted to try it myself actually.” It sounded like Keiko’s relative. 

_Of course, they just had to come to this table!_

“Oh you mean this is actually tea? But what are those black things?” That sounded like Pegasus. 

“They are tapioca balls, sir. They are meant to be chewed on as you sip the tea.”

“How fascinating! It’s so fascinating how tea comes in so many different forms these days. How is tea usually prepared in Egypt, Isis? Egypt has a big tea culture like Japan, no?”

“Yes, we do. We usually drink black tea with sugar and mint in glass cups. Sometimes milk. It’s the same in the rest of North Africa.” Isis paused briefly, “by the way, do any of you know where Kaiba went?” Seto felt strange being called ‘Kaiba’ by her. “I had some business with him but he always seems to disappear whenever I try to approach him.” _So, she caught on._

Mokuba gave his brother a questioning look, Seto attempted to shrug his shoulders but ended up hitting the top of his head on the table with an audible thud. 

Everyone must have noticed because the tea attendant felt the need to explain the noise. 

“Uh…ouch!” 

“What’s that? Speak up m’boy.” 

“I just hit my knee on the table, sir.” It seemed to be a sufficient enough explanation. 

“I do remember seeing them here a few minutes ago. I had wanted to talk to the younger Kaiba about him and my grand niece.” 

“Keiko?” Isis tried to remember her name from the conversations she overheard.

At the mention of the name Mokuba started to tear up and whimper. Seto gestured to him to be quiet. 

“Ah, yes, yes! You’ve met her?” 

“Yes, in a sense. At Kaibaland Macau. They seemed like quite the pair.” 

“Well, I just found out today that they are no longer together over the phone. Keiko just springs it on me when I told her that I would be at this shareholder meeting. Imagine my surprise that not only was she not even invited but also she had on a date with another one of her classmates. And he certainly does not have the pedigree of a Kaiba, let me tell you.” 

Seto could see the tears rolling like waterfalls from Mokuba’s eyes as he tried to subdue his whimpers by covering his mouth with his hands.

_Poor kid. What a way to find out._

“The brothers were just here, weren’t they? Do you know where Kaiba-boy and Mokuba went?” Pegasus sounded like he was asking the poor attendant. 

“I-I, I think they were headed towards...the meeting rooms?” 

“They must be going over the board elections results for tomorrow’s session.” 

“In that case _—_ ”

Seto waited for the voices to fade as the three of them walked away from the table. 

“It’s all clear Mr. Kaibas.” Seto maneuvered to lift the table cloth to confirm the assessment. He saw the trio disappear into another special event room. 

Once the coast was clear, the two brothers came out from under the table. They straightened out their clothing and hair, trying very hard to regain their lost dignity. Mokuba took a napkin from the table and wiped the tears and snot from his face. Meanwhile, Seto handed a very generous cash tip to the tea attendant making him rather pleased. 

Well,” Mokuba commented as he cleared his throat regaining his composure, “that was a new low.” 

Seto kept a poker face, nothing to show the utter emotional hurt he felt. It was worse than failing to get Isis to see him in a different way. His thoughts were interrupted as Mokuba spoke again. 

“Seto, I don’t know why it hurts so much!” The tears and snot had come back with a vengeance. It was official, Mokuba was having a teenage meltdown. Not wanting to make a public scene for both their sake and their company’s sake, Seto took a large stack of paper napkins and wordlessly led Mokuba to a hidden utility closet. It wasn’t ideal but it was private and convenient. He handed Mokuba a couple of tissues and patiently waited for him to calm down. Five minutes later, Mokuba was ready to talk, but his question caught Seto off guard. 

“Why did you hide under the table, Seto?” Seto looked at his brother with a blank expression for a few seconds, trying to piece an answer that revealed as little as possible. 

“I didn’t want you to feel alone.” 

* * *

Seto sighed as he walked in the quiet hallway of the convention centre. The shareholders were on their final night of partying away and they were doing it loudly. The morning and afternoon sessions of the meeting went relatively smoothly despite the two brothers feeling like emotional wrecks on the inside. They were trained in professionalism at such a young age, so switching into work mode was not a hard thing to pull off. Seto and Mokuba even organized a plan with the security team to make sure Keiko’s great-uncle never approached Mokuba about Keiko. 

This, of course, didn’t stop Seto’s blood from boiling, each time he saw Isis and Pegasus sit together in the meeting.

On the final night of festivities, Mokuba had turned in early, saying something about having to study for a math exam. Seto was left on his own and decided to find respite from walking. The talk he had with Mokuba yesterday was therapeutic to not just Mokuba. As far as he knew, Pegasus and Isis were an item. He empathized with his little brother for feeling a profound and uncomfortable sense of betrayal. But much like the advice he gave to Mokuba, which if he was honest was mostly for himself, he had to face the fact that a romantic interest had slipped away through his fingers. What was especially painful for Seto was that he had actually tried to grasp at it and it still eluded him. 

“Seto.” The voice stopped him in his tracks. It was from the last person he wanted to talk to while he sulked his feelings away. 

“What do you want?” his voice was a bit harsh but that never deterred Isis. He turned around to look at her with his ice-cold stare, daring her to not waste his time. Isis closed the distance between them and leaned in just enough for him to register just how close she was, and yet not close enough for him to tell her to mind the personal space. He could smell the earthy yet fruity scent of her perfume, a scent he was beginning to realize was always there. 

“I’ve realized we haven’t spoken in private in a while.” Her voice still conveyed that alluring intensity it always had, but there seemed to be an unfamiliar undertone he couldn’t quite interpret. “It’s such a strange thing to say when it has only been less than two weeks since we last spoke.”

“Well, I guess I was too busy.” He shrugged trying very hard to not make an indication that her proximity was affecting him, making him angrier but also drawn in. Isis cocked her head to the side, he swore there was a slight smirk on her lips. 

“It’s a shame really. I did enjoy your company.” 

“Really?” Even he was surprised because people rarely enjoyed his company and he did this intentionally. 

“Really. Though it seems the feelings are not mutual,” Isis’s face became concerned. 

“Nhn.” Seto wasn’t one to fake politeness. 

“Fine. I will spare you the mind games.” Isis looked him straight into his eye, giving him an intense stare to match his own. “Seto, I’m interested in you. And I have seen that you were as well.” Isis said frankly. 

Seto scoffed at her bold statement in an attempt to hide the blooming heat on his cheeks. But the more she stared at him unflinchingly, the warmer his face felt. 

_I need to say something to nip this in the bud!_

“Isis, now whatever made you come to such an audacious conclusion?” His intimidating stare and condescending tone would have made a lesser woman back peddle so hard. However, Isis firmly stood her ground and returned with an even more ironclad stare of her own.

“Seto, why I just have a premonition.” He could see the start of a smirk forming on her lips as she leaned in a hair closer. 

“A premonition?” Seto mocked and rolled his eyes as he took a step back to reestablish distance. “You know how I feel about all that nonsense.” His heart was beating faster just like two weeks ago and he desperately didn’t want it to.

“Oh? And yet who ended up trusting my premonitions without evidence?” she asked coyly. Isis led his eyes with an elegant hand she placed on her neck and slowly dragged down her index finger to the exposed skin below her clavicular notch. “And don’t tell me that you think my visions were not substantial at the time,” Isis smirked.

“Huh, well your visions didn’t always pan out if I recall.” Seto quickly looked away at her suggestive hand, attempting to strengthen his hard demeanour. “Could you blame me for my skepticism? “ Kaiba returned with a self-satisfied grin. 

“So what your saying is, my premonition is wrong?” Isis’s brows furrowed in thought. 

“Yes. Completely. ” 

_Reject me once and you’re done forever._

“Besides, I’m sure Pegasus would not be thrilled that his partner was flirting with his business partner.” The comment confounded Isis, he could see it in the way her expression turned from playful to bemusement. 

“You think Pegasus and I...are romantically involved?” Isis spoke slowly as if trying to process the thought as she said it out loud. She then placed a hand over her mouth and chuckled. “Seto, I can assure you that we are absolutely not. If anything, he brought me along because he wanted me to talk to you."

_Bullshit._

“You see, Pegasus and I shared the same _premonition_ about you.” 

_You mean, I actually impressed her? With what?!?_

Seto was irritated. Clearly it was not the grand gestures and ceremonies that impressed her. And even if they did, her initial ambivalent reception of his grand gestures felt like a rejection. That sense of failure alone would never make him forget the utter stupidity he felt for wanting to impress her in the first place. 

“Like I said before. Your premonition is wrong. So you can stop wasting my time!” Isis blankly looked at Seto’s enraged face. She then closed her eyes and shook her head in defeat. 

“I guess I was wrong again.” Isis stepped back and looked at him with an unreadable gaze. “Well...in that case, I shall rescind my intended offer for a date.” Seto’s heart thumped briefly when he heard Isis admit this though his visible displeasure remained. “However, you’ve convinced me that you might be the right man for an attractive business offer I have in mind,” Isis spoke with a stern expression and yet he could see a vaguely familiar twinkle in her dark green eyes. 

He scoffed and crossed his arms, “you really think I would do another partnership with you. The last time it ended up being a stage for your unresolved family issues.” 

“You’re right, I need to prove myself to you, don’t I? I need to be transparent in my intentions and goals?” Isis furrowed her eyebrows. “Well, I have another proposition then.” 

“A waste of m _—_ ” 

“I’ll be in Kuala Lumpur tomorrow,” Isis interrupted him. “I heard from Isono that you will be as well. Let’s explore the city together.” 

_What—_

“There’s a famous saying among the merchants in Cairo’s old Khan el-Khalili bazaar and souq,”

_What is happening?_

“To understand the market one has to spend time in it. Seeing the sights, smelling the spices, tasting fresh fruit, sipping on coffee, inspecting the wares, paying attention to what all the tourists are looking at. Only then will you truly understand your competition.”

_She definitely made that up—_

“Surely you can’t refuse? I just saw your shareholder presentation and you clearly outlined that you wanted to grow more in the Asian market outside Japan this coming decade. While I think you did an excellent job with Kaibaland Macau, the South East Asian gaming market has different tastes and resources and therefore new opportunities for your company to innovate.”

_Why can’t I just—_

“Of course as this will be a business-related trip. Surely you don’t want to miss this opportunity to understand another gaming market?”

“I-I _—_ ”

“Excellent,” Isis said with a gentle smile. “I’ll let Mr. Isono know. I’ll send you details on where to pick me up.” Isis gave Seto a formal Japanese salaryman bow before walking past him in the hallway, leaving a shocked and speechless Seto in her wake. As he heard Isis’s footsteps disappear, Seto tapped his KC logo communicator on his suit collar. 

“Isono!” 

“Yes, Mr. Kaiba!”

“Make sure my schedule is clear after my meeting tomorrow. I’ll be spending the rest of the day with Isis Ishtar. We’re having a business meeting.”

There was a brief pause on Isono’s end that made Seto deeply uncomfortable. 

“Understood, sir.” 

Seto released a deep breath and he realized he had been holding. He admitted that despite all his efforts, she was right. The feelings were very much mutual and his heart was elated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I don’t have a finance or business background, so had to do a lot of research on how corporations are structured and funded. I spent a long time trying to figure out if KC is a publicly traded company or a closely held one. If they were public, they would have stockholders, but the way that they were talking about hostile takeovers and majority shareholders, it seemed like a closely held company.
> 
> \- I did a lot of research on exuberant shareholder meeting afterparties Some companies have celebrity guests, concerts and parties in addition to standard stuff like Q and As. Some of the questions were based on some asked in a recent Nintendo shareholder meeting Q and A. 
> 
> -This story is set in 2000 so I had to make all of the Y2K jokes. I was watching an NYT piece explaining how government bodies spent money to replace all of the two-digit date values with four-digit ones manually, especially by outsourcing the tedious process to countries such as India. 
> 
> -I read this amazing essay of a response on the Yu-Gi-Oh subreddit which tried to explain how a world whose economy is largely based on playing a children’s card game would function and it was amazing. Read it for yourself: https://www.reddit.com/r/AskScienceFiction/comments/4xjr9u/yugioh_how_much_of_the_worlds_economy_is_based_on/
> 
> -I remember reading about Coming of Age Day in Japan, which is when newly turned twenty-year-olds celebrate their entrance into adulthood. I just found out that the voting age in Japan was 20 until 2015. They decided to change the age for Coming of Age Day to 18 as well, causing confusion among traditionalists as one can imagine. 
> 
> -the rectangular water bottle story is lifted from this hilarious scene in DSOD where he drinks a rectangular KC branded water bottle after battling hologram Atem in DM. He complains that the simulation is not intense enough. takes his anger out by crushing and throwing away the water bottle and as his parting shot tells his team of elite scientists and engineers to fire the person who designed a poorly designed water bottle. The scene, especially in the dub is a peak Kaiba in a movie with iconic peak Kaiba moments (although my favourite is still the part he basically does a fancy PowerPoint to a full stadium explaining why he's God). The movie is more of a sequel with the manga plot that sorta takes a piss at the sense of closure Seto got at Atem's departure in the anime but gloriously prooves that Seto ain't straight. Watch it for the entertaining as hell peak Kaiba moments. 
> 
> -bubble tea quite ubiquitous around my part of the world, but it was first invented in Taiwan in the 1980s. 
> 
> -Isis smells like frankincense very popular scent in Ancient Egypt. 
> 
> -the Khan el Khalili market is a historic outdoor bazaar in old Cairo that attracts all the tourists. The photos are gorgeous.
> 
> -the title of this chapter is a reference to the South Korean movie "Seducing Mr. Perfect.", in which one of the romantic leads is a douchy yet highly competent CEO of an international conglomerate who treats love as a power trip game...like a starcraft game if you will. Sounds familiar?


	9. In the Mood for Food Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isis and Seto go on a date with a very different understanding of what the date is for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to split another chapter up. This one was both fun and challenging to write.

_This is not a date._

_This is not a business meeting._

“Mr. Kaiba, Ms. Ishtar will be waiting for you in the lobby this afternoon. We will reach her in half an hour at the Hotel Majestic.” Isono sat next to his employer as they drove away from the shiny steel and concrete structures of downtown Kuala Lumpur. He flipped through pages on a clipboard as he briefed Seto on his afternoon schedule, occasionally using a finger to push his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose. 

“Nhm,” was Seto’s non-verbal confirmation as he stared out the window in affected ennui. His eyes did not leave the impressive twin shapes of the Petronas towers. Seto had spent the morning visiting the newly minted headquarters of the KC Malaysia offices which occupied the highest floor in the tallest building in the world. He was pleased with the progress of his new branch, satisfied that it will foster a South East Asian gaming market. However, despite company duties keeping him occupied, the thing that lingered in his mind was another _business meeting._

He knew it, Isis knew it, hell he suspected Isono knew it but didn’t say anything because he paid him too much, the _business meeting_ was a veiled front for a first date. Isis had expertly redirected his rejection and gave him an out that Seto was more amenable to taking. And upon reflecting on the eight-hour plane ride last night, in the reclined seat of his luxurious private plane, Seto interrogated why he said yes. He could have said no. But he didn’t.

Unable to sleep last night, Seto began to process the whole gambit of emotions he experienced in the past two and a half months of this year. In January, he was living his life, keeping on and pretending that his life hadn’t changed all that much in the past year. Mokuba was moving towards a path that started to diverge from his own, but he supposed it was part of growing up. 

And then, he unexpectedly reconnected with Isis. 

Isis may have tried to manipulate him into fulfilling some ancient prophecy, but he knew she had more altruistic intentions. He secretly empathized that all her plans, especially given their high risk, were for saving her brothers and ultimately helping Atem. Did she pique his interest with her daring actions and emotional intelligence? Especially in the way she deftly understood and unflinchingly criticized him? Certainly. Water under the bridge. Although the memories of the times they’ve interacted did occasionally linger on his mind from time to time. She definitely knew how to leave an impression on him. 

Regardless, the fact remained: as recently as two weeks ago, he was trying to romantically woo Isis. The how and why were not things that Seto wanted to deliberate on, especially after being initially rejected. When he was telling Isono to arrange his schedule to accommodate her, he was on a natural high. She saw him the way he saw her and wanted to explore what a romantic relationship between them might look like. 

And then the voice in his head kicked in: what did he do to actually impress Isis?

Was it like the many upper-class socialites and celebrities who the tabloids fantastically linked with him romantically? He was not naive to be unaware of the reasons why women saw him as an eligible bachelor. He was young, attractive, intelligent, extremely wealthy with quite the impressive story of how he bootstrapped himself to success. Did Isis all of a sudden realize that dating him would give her great proximity to immense power and wealth? His gut said that seemed unlike her, but he was not willing to rule it out completely. 

But there must have been something else. Maybe it was a bet with Pegasus, like some sick joke to entertain them? He wasn’t entirely sold on that either. Isis was too empathetic of a person to want to do something like that. It’s the type of thing she would be giving him a lecture on if he attempted it. 

And then he came up with an explanation that seemed more likely considering Isis’s more maternal tendencies: she was dating him out of pity to help him ‘process’ Atem’s departure. 

Pegasus must have said something to Isis to hint Seto was interested in her. They must have assumed that he no longer was when Isis was not invited to the recent KC event as she had in the past couple of months. It wouldn’t be unreasonable for them to come to the conclusion it was because he had a thing for Atem. He even got a message from Yugi asking if he wanted to hang out to play games together or attend a reunion party in two weeks. Yugi didn’t mention Atem’s name or the reason for the occasion, but it was heavily implied. The anniversary of Atem’s departure was coming up soon and everyone on the planet wanted to check up on him. At least with Yugi it came from a place of empathy. 

The more he thought about this conclusion, the more he bounced from two very different trains of thought. On one hand, Isis clearly cared for his well being; Atem’s departure had affected him emotionally more than he would ever care to admit. He would never say this to her face, but she was really good at reading him for someone who he didn’t grow up with. 

On the other hand, the idea that Isis was dating him to selfishly make _her_ feel good or even worse selflessly make _him_ feel good was infuriatingly offensive. She was pitying him like the people who pitied him and his brother when they became orphans. He did not savour his status as some charity project then, he certainly didn’t want to feel like one now. 

Given this horrifying conclusion, Seto could have told Isono to cancel the meeting while on the plane, or this morning when he was exiting the plane, or when he was reading the newspaper over breakfast in his presidential hotel suite, or when he was checking his email at the corporate offices and most importantly, right now on his way there. He could easily turn to Isono and tell him to call her and apologize for cancelling due to some ‘unforeseen events’ with a message that suggests she could contact Isono to reschedule but then ghost her completely. Hell, _he_ could call her and throw in a good insult or two before letting her know he hopes to never see her face ever again because she was wasting his precious time. Politeness was never a barrier for Kaiba.

But that would not be satisfying enough. 

Had Isis not been so bold to appear at his shareholder meeting and kept the last interaction they had to be the one they had in Macau, Seto would have moved on in his life. He would have never wanted to find love again, probably would have come to see romance as another game. He was not the type of asshole to think that Isis owed him a relationship because he did these grand gestures for her. She was free to do whatever she wanted. He would have even remained civil if after a long time he saw her again by chance. 

However, she made the very very daring move to reel him back in, like some gullible fish she could capture, nurse back to health, and return to the wild like some self-serving feel-good humanitarian project. 

He could have said no. But he didn’t. And after spending most of the plane ride ruminating, he knew precisely why: he was spiteful and wanted revenge. 

He wanted to return the favour. Have her taste the highs of amorous false hopes and the lows of romantic irrelevance. She didn’t even register his attempts at courtship, probably due to a combination of believing he was incapable of it and still in denial about obsessing over Atem. 

He wanted to make her work just as hard as he did to fail to impress her. Was this incredibly petty? Absolutely. But it was also very on-brand for him. He could not wait to scrutinize and dismiss her attempts at courtship after she put in all her effort. Particularly since she was apparently doing this out of some misguided reason to help him heal or some nonsense like that. 

_This is not a date._

_This is not a business meeting._

_This is an ironic date._

_This is revenge._

"This should be fun,” Seto declared out loud as he chuckled darkly to himself, getting pleasure from imagining her devastated face when she sees that he is not some grateful therapy project. 

“Mr. Kaiba, are you looking forward to this afternoon?” Seto realized that Isono might have misapprehended his menacing statement as a more sincere one. If Isono was already not buying this false pretense of a business meeting, Seto’s comment certainly did not put out the flame.

“It’s not what you think!” Seto looked exasperated with his fingers clawing into his crossed arms. The last thing he wanted Isono to do was to take his denial as a sign of interest and mischaracterize him as some emotionally constipated teenager. He was just doing this to entertain himself and get a bit of emotional release. He was very self-aware of his petty tendencies. 

“It’s not what I think? It’s not a business meeting?” Isono’s shades slide down to reveal his widened eyes, mildly mirroring Seto’s alarming ones. 

“Isono this is a business meeting! ” Seto declared sternly while internally praying to the universe that Isono didn’t see this as a denial. Reassured his employer was his regular self, Isono’s face returned to display a neutral professionalism, his sunglasses and straight posture back in place.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Kaiba.” Even as Isono said this in a way that would not suggest a double meaning, Seto couldn’t help but feel a bit paranoid. Being misunderstood that he wanted to impress Isis romantically when he was explicitly not trying to would not only be ironic but also a kick in the pants. 

_This is not a date._

_This is revenge._

“It’s not an excuse to spend the whole afternoon with that ridiculous woman,” Seto calmly clarified. 

Isono’s observations and understanding of the situation might trickle down to Mokuba. If Mokuba cleverly deduced that Seto did have genuine softer feelings towards Isis, even if it was in the past tense, he might try to push him further towards that direction both as a distraction from Keiko and Atem. He couldn’t just tell Isono to not tell Mokuba about this ‘meeting’ because that would give Isono ideas that would still somehow trickle down to Mokuba in other ways. He planned to stretch out his revenge for two _ironic_ dates and did not want Mokuba to interfere before the payoff. 

“No, I get it Mr. Kaiba. She irritates you and even undermines you.” Seto paused a bit after Isono spoke. 

_Irritates me for sure. Undermine not really._

“Yep.” He decided to agree with Isono anyways, determining that correcting him on the subtleties of the Isis-Kaiba dynamic might be sending mixed messages. “Not a date.” 

_Not a date, a revenge plan._

_Because pitying me like this, no matter how well-intentioned, is dangerous._

Seto’s repetition of the phrase did make Isono wonder, “does Ms. Ishtar think of it as one?”

“Nope,” Seto answered with a straight face. 

Isono nodded, “good, you two are on the same page.” 

“...Yep.” 

* * *

_This is not a business meeting._

_This is a date._

“Can I offer Madame anything else?” Isis’s black vested butler elegantly poured tea into her cup as he spoke. “Call your chauffeur perhaps?”

Isis sat comfortably on a luxurious couch in a quiet corner of a magnificent hotel lobby. The majestic glass chandelier was framed by a large circular feature wall held by neoclassical columns made of dark wood. The pristine floors were covered in black and white marble, attractively arranged in sleek zigzag patterns. The walls, doors and furniture were sophisticatedly adorned with geometric and decorative flourishes that seemed very very familiar. 

“Madame?” the butler asked again. Isis seemed lost in thought, staring at the heavy wood table placed underneath the large chandelier, with an enormous flower arrangement. She noticed the butler was asking her a question when he referred to her again. 

“Ah! My apologies. I was admiring this immaculate lobby. What style did you say it was in?” Isis turned to look at the butler. 

“Art Deco. It was very popular in the 1930s when the hotel was built."

“Fascinating,” Isis turned back to gaze at the lobby. “I must say, some of these design choices and elements evoke Ancient Egypt for me.” 

“Much like the exhibition you’re organizing at the national museum, madame?”

“Why, yes. It’s the first time the government has allowed two famous New Kingdom pharaohs to be displayed next to each other.” Isis was pleasantly surprised that her butler remembered the purpose of her trip to KL. “It’s a once in a lifetime exhibit. You should go tell your friends and family to see it. ”

Isis much like her brother and the rest of the family felt internally conflicted with the modern practice of displaying the open caskets of the dead in museums in the name of education and Egyptology. It would be the equivalent to the disrespect and sacrilege of having the mummy of Atem (if he had one) on display. However, seeing how it did further interest people in their long-forgotten ways made the Ishtar siblings resigned to tolerating the practice. 

“Would madame like anything else?” inquired her butler.

“Just get the chauffeur ready, Mikail. I’m waiting for a gentleman friend. We’re going to explore the city for a _business_ meeting.” Isis covered her mouth as she chuckled to herself. “Honestly it’s a thinly veiled front for a first date with an acquaintance of mine. Men like him aren’t so forthcoming with their romantic interests.”

“Sounds like a complicated man.” Mikail’s assessment was not inaccurate. 

“That’s certainly one way to put it. Insisting it was for business was the only way he would agree to one after he rejected me on a gross misunderstanding.” Isis and Pegasus had a good laugh at Kaiba’s presumption that she was dating Pegasus. “I basically have to go on a date with a man who refuses to call it that. But that’s by the bye, I organized an afternoon with all of the food spots you recommended. Thank you for that.” 

“Madame," Mikail looked bit nervous, "if this was for a first date rather than to explore the local spots in the city, I would have made less _rustic_ suggestions. Especially ones that did not appear in an article titled the '6 Malayasian foods to avoid on a first date, la!'” Mikail nodded at the Malaysian women’s magazine in Isis’s hand. “I assumed it was _not_ a date.”

“Well, I suppose you can say I have a sense of humour. But I wanted us to be more casual and relaxed.” Isis wanted to explore the city through the less polished local spots rather than the glitzy tourist traps. “Just have the chauffeur ready in five minutes, he should be here soon.” 

_This is not a business meeting._

_This is a date._

“Of course, Madame. Please contact me on the phone if you need anything.” The butler politely bowed and walked away leaving Isis to read a magazine while sipping tea. 

A couple of minutes later, Isis heard her mobile go off. The display showed a familiar +20 number; she already knew who it was from. 

“Marik! Everything alright?” International calling via mobile wasn’t exactly inexpensive, even on her cushy government salary. 

“Did you get it?” Marik’s voice was giddy with excitement. It was endearingly adorable enough for Isis to forget the cost of the call. 

“Get what Marik?” 

“Yugi’s invitation! He’s holding a reunion party in two weeks in Domino.” 

_Of course. It will be a whole year soon._

_I wonder how Seto’s dealing with this._

“We’re going, right? I know we saw them in Macau a couple of weeks ago...but Yugi says that it will probably be a hanami party. The cherry blossoms are predicted to bloom that week.” 

“That would be quite a way to honour his memory.” The symbolism of the flower, one meaning new beginnings, optimism and the transience of life would be an appropriate backdrop to a reunion with good friends. 

“Exactly! And you’ll still be in KL anyways for most of this month. So a seven-hour flight to Domino should be no problem.” Marik's excitement quickly morphed to reluctance. “Besides, I would rather celebrate the day with them than with our extended family.” 

“Marik, you know we would have to do that regardless. It freed our family after all.” While Isis shared Marik’s feeling, as an older sibling she did feel obliged to set a good example. 

“Yeah, yeah. But you know it won’t be the same as celebrating people who remembered him as a person like we do.”

“I suppose,” Isis was understating how much she empathized with Marik here. When one grows up in a religion that reveres the Pharaoh as a proxy to a higher divinity, it becomes harder to see him as a teenager with real human desires and personal bonds. Isis and her brothers knew the Pharaoh as a real person, the rest of the family did not. 

“You know the family is going to do some scripture readings and prayers, the boring stuff. Which let me tell you, after we all decided to celebrate Bast and Wadi the proper way, made me realize that our festivals are actually _fun_.” Feeling more comfortable roaming above ground and not having to adhere to the codes of secrecy of their clan, the tomb keeper family decided to consult the ancient records on how to celebrate some of their beloved religious festivals of yore, the traditional way. In addition to elaborate boats, delicious food, nights of dancing, music-making, and partying their generational trauma away, these festivals were also golden opportunities to consume monumental quantities of wine.

“Don’t remind me. I can still feel last month’s massive hangover every time I think about it.” It was truly illuminating to see the most reserved female relatives inebriated during the Bast Festival: the lack of inhibitions empowering the women to divulge family secrets, gossip and hot takes among many other things. “I was surprised that mau could drink so much after being discharged from the hospital.” 

“Yes, mau is a wild person when she’s very drunk. I can see why we banned these kinds of things for the past eight hundred years. I didn’t realize our family was filled with repressed party animals. Speaking of parties, was the one at the shareholder meeting just as wild?”

“There certainly was a lot of free alcohol to be found. I’m surprised that someone stoic as Seto organized something like this.”

“Still enjoying the peace mission? You’re allowed to say he is an unredeemable asshole you know.” 

“Actually,” Isis was deciding whether she should reveal the details of her burgeoning romantic exploits. Marik would be far from pleased if he knew it involved ‘that unredeemable asshole’. “I was invited by Pegasus to meet a business partner. Unfortunately, this person was being a bit _elusive_. I even saw him hide under a table when I was about to walk towards him.” Isis did see Seto race to hide underneath a table and was surprised that her companions did not notice. (Although one was getting cataract surgery in his right eye, and the other only had one eye.) “It took an extra day to find him in a good mood to agree to a meeting. Coincidentally we were both in KL today so we were going to flesh out details this afternoon.” 

Her idea of “fleshing out the details” meant getting to know Seto in another more friendly and casual context and see where things go from there. She knew Seto too was aware of the romantic intent of the date despite refusing to call it that. Had he not wanted to, Isono could have simply called and cancelled on his behalf. She knew it was a bit deceptive of her to not be so open about this with her brother, but she wasn’t going to tell Marik that she was going on a date with Seto Kaiba. Rishid and Marik might decide to hop on a plane to Malaysia and do an intervention to see if Isis was well. Moreover, Isis was still trying to discern if anything could happen between them. 

“Wait, did you say Pegasus’s business partner was hiding under a table? Did you scar the man emotionally or something?” Marik was only half-joking, he knew his gentle sister had an intimidating side.

“I wonder about this myself.” After the confrontation, it became clear that Isis’s initial blindness to Seto’s wooing attempts turned Seto away from her. When she confessed her interest initially, she thought there was a gross misunderstanding on her part. That was until she saw an adorable warm red on his ears and cheeks, made more endearing as he tried to hide it. True to Seto fashion, he wasn’t going to admit this so openly or easily. “But that is by the bye, let Yugi know we’ll be seeing him in two weeks. It will be nice to reminisce and reflect with kindred spirits.”

“Good! Thank Ra we live in a major city and not the sticks. To think I survived without a mobile and internet plan most of my life.” 

“That reminds me, please tell me you are using the prepaid cards to make this call. You remember what happened last time?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I remember. Rishid made sure I used the prepaid card before his morning garden routine. Isn’t that right, bro?” Isis could hear Rishid grunt in approval in the background. “Which reminds me, did you hear how we stopped some antiquities thieves this past weekend?” 

“Ah yes, I actually got a call from my staff this morning.” Isis used her connections to barter a deal with the Egyptian government and Interpol to convince them to not pursue criminal charges against her brothers. The Rare Hunters were quite good at leaving a cold trail, but Isis did unsuccessfully try to take her brothers down with the help of Egyptian police when they were after the God Cards. The proof that at the very least engaged in grand larceny was undeniable with so many law enforcement eyewitnesses. In return for a clean slate, the brothers were employed to use their past experiences to capture and repatriate stolen antiquities back to the country. They managed to do this while consulting on excavations and translations on the side. “Congrats! How was it?”

“Oh, quite fun actually. Rishid and I got to chase after the bastards on my sweet bike! They were trying to steal some Islamic era lamps for a private collector outside the country. It was like an action movie!” 

“The two of you are quite the formidable force.” Since returning to her side of the law, the image of a thin-framed Marik riding a motorcycle with a large-framed Rishid in the sidecar has become extremely heartwarming. It was a reminder of how far they had come. The sight of them chasing after intrepid antiquities thieves like this was also charmingly hilarious.

“Anyways, we’re pretty excited for when you come back home next month. We’re going to cook you the best damn birthday meal ever!” Isis smiled, always grateful that she lived in a present where she could experience both of her dear brothers’ love. “Rishid’s lovingly tending to the mesdames he grew in his garden to make ful and tameeya. I’m in charge of making the pastry for umm ali. We’re doing _farm to table_ like in those trendy restaurants and magazines _._ Which honestly, come to think of it is just how our family’s been doing it since forever.”

“Thank you for doing all of this Marik. I really appreciate what you two are doing for me.” Isis then noticed Seto Kaiba enter the lobby, looking around the space to spot Isis. “Marik, do you mind if I bring a guest of my own?”

“Yeah of course. Are Aliaa and Theodora coming?” 

“Oh they can’t come, both are swamped with work and family things. We’re planning a late brunch a week after at Nile 49.” Isis started waving from her seat in hopes that Seto would notice. 

“In Kitkat? Ohhh, fancy. Overpriced, but fancy. I bet it was Aliaa’s idea.” 

“You’re not wrong,” Isis smiled, remembering the refined tastes of a close friend from university.

“So, who are you bringing along?” Seto finally noticed Isis waving her hand and proceeded to walk towards her, the displeased frown plastered on his face becoming more apparent the closer he got.

“Well, it depends if I can persuade them to...” Isis paused as Kaiba finally stood in front of her and crossed his arms. “...To say yes.” She looked up to see an impatient and annoyed Seto scrutinizing her. “Looks like my one pm appointment has arrived. Chat with you later, Marik.” 

“Isis. You didn’t pick up your phone. I was calling you to let you know I was waiting outside.” Seto looked at the closed phone placed in her lap. “And now I know why,” he grumbled. 

“Ah, apologies. I got a call from my brothers. They stopped a famed antiquities thief over the weekend. It’s making national news in Egypt.” Isis, thinking it best not to ask about his attendance at the reunion, decided that this reason would suffice for now. Seto was less perturbed but disappointed since that seemed like an important enough excuse to delay his ‘my time is money’ tirade as it would not punch quite as hard. “Anyways, have you eaten Seto?” 

“What?” 

“Have you eaten? We should start our business meeting over some food to discuss ideas.” 

Seto squinted his eyes at her, trying to discern hidden meanings from her words. She was still playing the ‘this is a business meeting’ angle. But he couldn’t read much from her plain expression as she waited for his move. 

“Isn’t there a restaurant at this hotel? Couldn’t we just go there.” Seto was pushing back the creeping sense of disappointment that maybe this was an _actual_ business meeting. 

“Don’t worry Seto,” Isis replied wryly, as if she could sense his unexpressed disappointment. I’ve planned the day out for us. I know you’ll be free for the rest of the day to accommodate my plans.”

“What gave you that idea?” Seto scoffed, finally seeing an opportunity to put the ‘my time is money’ bit. “I’m a busy man, I don’t have that much time. In fact-” Seto tirade was cut short as Isis interjected.

“Except I know you do.” Calm as ever, Isis delivered this blow while casually playing with a strand of her hair. “Isono told me that you are free this whole afternoon and even elaborated that your free tomorrow morning.”

That statement alone added to Seto’s sneaking suspicion that Isono might _already_ think this was a date of some kind. Or Isis was able to get that information out of him, somehow. Regardless, he had to move quickly with his plan. 

“Well, then Isis. It’s your move.” 

* * *

When Seto challenged Isis to impress him, perhaps he was a bit foolish to expect Isis to take him too seriously. He and Isis sat at a wooden table on red plastic stools in a communal food area which would have practically been in the open air except there was a metal roof over them. The air was humid and hot, mitigated slightly by the caged rotating fans attached to the pipes that held the roof up. Seto heard a whole vibrant tapestry of sounds: the sizzle of food getting cooked, the swoosh of fumes instantly appearing from splashing water and oil, the muted sound of traffic horns and running motors, the general chatter of the street market accented by the unfamiliar tunes of a live merry band of middle-aged musicians. The cacophony didn’t exactly exude the high standard of corporate professionalism one would expect when setting a meeting with a CEO of the Kaiba calibre. Nor did it hit him as romantic. 

Simply put, it gave the discontent Seto a great opportunity to verbally eviscerate her attempt at wooing him. 

The problem was that Isis didn’t seem to care.

“You know Seto, I am excited to try out all this delicious food.” Isis gazed in excitement at the two large plates of freshly made seafood laid out on the table. “I’m glad that I have a companion with such long arms to help me carry it all to a table.” She returned Seto’s irritated expression with an oblivious smile. 

“Isis,” Seto began in a barely veiled acidic voice with crossed arms. “I thought you said this was a business meeting.” Seto was beginning to feel sweat roll down his back, his long white coat and black turtleneck sweater were undermining the intended icy chill from his cold stare. “I thought you were trying to impress me and show me _business_ insights for the _Malaysian market_.” Isis's face became more impartial.

“And am I not showing you the local market? A street food market, yes. But a market where Malaysians do business nonetheless.” Isis deadpanned so spectacularly that it took Seto a couple of seconds to process that she was joking. _Is she trying to irritate me?_ Perhaps it was projecting the annoyance from the failure of his own grand gestures, but it vexed him that Isis’s casual approach to seduction was a stark contrast to his meticulously planned and more expensive one.

Isis continued, “besides, you can tell a lot about a culture from its street food. Looking at these two dishes alone, one can get a sense of the diverse ethnic groups that make the cuisine so great. Malay, Chinese, South Indian, it’s all here.” Isis gestured to the food in front of them. “I hope you’re hungry today, Seto. We’re going to be nibbling our way through some spots in KL. I consulted a local for the recommendations this morning.” She didn’t feel the need to comment that by research she meant finding an article in the English edition of a women’s magazine with an article called ‘6 Malaysian Foods to Avoid on Your First Date, la.’ 

“Let’s start, Seto.” Isis pushed a plate of spiced catfish roasted in a banana leaf and a plate of large crab cooked in chilli paste towards the center of the table. “Now that we’ve both washed our hands, let’s eat. Itadakimasu, if you will.”

Seto shrugged his shoulders after repeating an itadakimasu himself out of habit. Spite dating required a nourished body and he hadn’t eaten in a while. He looked around the table for something as Isis spooned a bit of sambal belacan on her plate. She noticed Seto’s hesitance to eat. 

“Something wrong, Seto?” 

“Yes, looks like the service in this facsimile of a restaurant you choose forgot to give us cutlery!” Disappointingly for Seto, Isis’s enthusiasm for the food did not visibly dampen to the slightest. She just giggled making Seto feel a bit foolish.

“Seto, it’s fortunate people here aren’t fluent in Japanese or they would think you were trying to insult everyone here. The reason I made you wash your hands is because we are going to be eating this food how locals do: with our hands.” Isis raised her right hand and wiggled her fingers for visual emphasis. “More accurately our right hand.” 

Seto grimaced. Perhaps he was a little too quick with the put-down. A woman who grew up isolated from modern civilization in an underground bunker was making _him_ look like some unworldly and uncultured swine. 

“You eat fish with your hand like this,” Isis expertly tore a piece of the spiced fish, steam and oil escaping from the flesh as she broke the crispy skin. She then dipped it in her sambal before popping it in her mouth before closing her eyes to savour the incredible flavour. “It’s delicious Seto, it might be a bit spicy for Japanese tastes, but you can eat it without the sambal.” The fish did look delicious, he sighed and resigned himself to enjoying this meal despite his intentions. Using his hands he took a bit of the fish and ate it. 

“It’s flavourful,” was Seto’s only comment. Yet Isis could see in the way he went for another bite immediately, that he approved of her choice in food. 

Isis smiled knowing that this was _definitely_ a date. Now she just had to find a way to make him admit this.

* * *

“My apologies for interrupting your lunch,” Isis spoke to Isono as she sat a seat away from Seto while riding in his limbo. “My hotel provided chauffeur would only be able to drive a certain distance from the hotel. Unfortunately, to eat our next item, it will require going further away. Near the suburbs, in fact.” She turned to look at Seto, “I’m told it will be worth it.” 

“No need to apologize Ms. Ishtar. “ was Isono’s polite reply. 

After eating a meal of ikan bakar and chili crab, Isis announced the next food destination which was further from the city centre. They had initially used Isis’s hotel provided transport to get to a walkable distance to the market as it was within the twenty-five kilometre range of the hotel. Seto was in a better and less vengeful mood after the delicious meal, willing to indulge Isis. This good mood turned into a minor anxiety attack when Isis asked if he could call Isono to drop them off to the next place. 

Seto didn’t give this much thought at first, he wasn’t exactly up to using public transport to get there. Preferring instead to get to places in convenience and comfort that his wealth afforded him. That was until he remembered that he specifically told Isono that this was definitely _not_ a date. 

You know what made this look like a date? 

“Seto? Are you alright?” Isis raised her eyebrows and leaned towards him slightly in concern. He swore he saw a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You look _hot_.” 

_Why did she even say that last part like that in English?_

“I’m fine!” Seto sat up straight and moved a bit further away from Isis. “Sitting out in that humid heat was a stupid idea. Those tiny metal things they call fans did absolutely nothing!” Seto crossed his arms and raised his nose in the air to show Isono that he was his usual abrasive self. _This is not a date._ He had to remember his revenge plan. “I hope this next restaurant you choose has the decency to have indoor seating with proper AC.” 

“Yes of course. I am cognizant of the needs of a potential business partner.” The switch back to using business jargon did not escape Seto’s notice. Isis then turned to Isono. “Actually Isono, since you happened to be free, I love to pick your brain since you are Seto's chief business advisor. Would you be interested in joining us?”

_What is she doing?_

“I would like to get both of your insights on investment strategies in the Duel Monsters gaming market. The Egyptian government would be interested in investing in such initiatives and you may provide valuable lessons on how to foster a homegrown Duel Monster's scene. Malaysia and Egypt have a lot of economic and infrastructural similarities, you see.” Behind the placid smile she gave Isono as she explained economic development strategies, Seto could see glimpses of something more playful. 

_If he wants business meeting, I’ll give him business meeting._

Nothing made Isono happier than consulting on endeavours that would further elevate the Kaiba Corp brand: “Of course, I would be happy to contribute. That is,” Isono turned to his employer, “if Mr. Kaiba would want this. I do not want to interfere with your plans.”

“I don’t see why not, Seto? This is a business meeting after all. It’s not like we are on a date or something.” 

_And check!_

Kaiba wanted to go on an ironic date with Isis to ultimately spite her for thinking of him as some pitiful humanitarian project. He did not, however, want Isono to think that this was a date of any kind because the irony would get lost once Mokuba inevitably got wind of this. 

Isis wanted to go on a real date and was aggressively cornering him to call it a date because unbeknownst to Seto, she actually liked him. She just assumed Seto was being his usual reluctant and difficult self. Seto assumed getting him to admit this was a date around Isono was some kind of therapeutic exercise she came up with to help him 'get over' Atem. 

What was the difference between an ironic spite date and a genuine real date? For the people observing the two from the outside: absolutely nothing. 

Seto was beginning to realize how his ironic date might come off as genuine. He carefully weighed his options. He could tell Isono to piss off, giving him some urgent task or project to do instead. Although, Mokuba would then later ask Isono how the business meeting in KL went, be very surprised to hear it was with Isis, and then come to unfavourable conclusions when he hears that Isono was excluded from the meeting despite being Seto’s right-hand business adviser. Especially given that the last time Seto spoke of Isis with Mokuba was expressing his unusually heightened irritation at seeing Isis at his shareholder meeting. Seto knew what he had to do. 

“You’re right, Isis. Isono _should_ join us.”

Isis frowned, she did not intend to drag a third wheel along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -With COVID-19 keeping most of us indoors, I had a really fun time researching and writing about gratuitous vacations in exiting international destinations. Much like I asked my half Egyptian friend for the Egypt bits I asked my Malayasian friend for the Kuala Lumpur bits. I love how my friends who didn’t get into Yugioh are indulging me. Also great to have friends from different places. 
> 
> -The Petronas Towers is an impressive twin skyscraper built in 1998. From 1998 to 2004, it was the tallest building in the world. It's still the tallest twin building in the world though. 
> 
> -The hotel is based on a real-life hotel in KL called Hotel Majestic. It’s a historic hotel built in the 1930s which to this day maintains a lot of colonial-era luxuries like having an assigned personal butler, afternoon tea in an orchid conservatory and a gentlemen’s smokehouse. It’s also fairly close to the museums. Many parts of the hotel, especially the lobby, are inspired by Art Deco style which was very popular in the 1930s. It used sleek geometry with elements borrowed from ancient civilizations like Ancient Egypt. 
> 
> -the exhibit is based on one that the Malaysian government had planned to do one with both Ramses III and Tutankhamun in 2020 before they returned to the Grand Egypt Museum. Wonder how that’s panning out now. I remember this scene from the manga in which manga!Shadi (who is a contemporary relative(?) of the Ishtars and not an ancient spirit) saw a Pharoah displayed in a museum he cried because it was disrespecting the Pharoah's eternal slumber. I imagine the Ishtars have similar feelings about this practice but have learned to tolerate it as much as they can. 
> 
> \- I actually did find an article called 6 Malaysian Foods to Not Eat on Your First Date. The addition of ‘la’ in this fanfic’s version of the article is a subtle joke on how the casual Malayasian English dialect just embellishes every sentence with la.  
> -Ikan bakar is freshwater fish roasted in banana leaf with spices, traditional Malay dish  
> -sambal belecan is basically salsa made from shrimp paste, chili, oil and spices. 
> 
> \- Ful is Egypt’s other national dish, a dish so old that it has hieroglyphics for it. It’s of course not just found in Egypt, various parts of North/East Africa to the Fertile Crescent eat regionally distinct versions of this dish. Tameeya is basically falafel made from fava beans. 
> 
> -the Bast Festival and Wadi Festival were very popular festivals in New Kingdom Ancient Egypt. Bast is especially interesting as it was basically a celebration for women to party, dance, drink a lot of wine and do things like share secrets and raise their skirts to display their genitals.  
> Source: https://www.ancient.eu/article/1032/festivals-in-ancient-egypt/
> 
> -The title of this chapter is a reference to the 2000 Hong Kong cinema gem directed by famed director Wong Kar-wai called “In the Mood for Love”.


	10. In the Mood for Food Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With competing interests and delicious food, their first date turns into a rollercoaster of emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After at least four scrapped versions of this chapter, I present to you chapter 10. I hope this is entertaining and gives the reader some sense of joy. Also changed the rating because I think I curse too much when I write Seto lol
> 
> Special thanks to amuk for editing and feedback. They are an amazing drabbles and one shot writer on here and should check them out!

_Seven more minutes…_

Isis and Seto sat in a suburban restaurant that looked like an unassuming mess hall, as they savoured a banana leaf rice meal. And yet, despite the mouthwatering cornucopia of cooked vegetables, yogurt, fish, meat, spiced pickle and red rice all neatly arranged on a large freshly cut banana leaf before them, there was something else at the table that was regrettably stealing the show. 

“As you can see from these graphs here, Ms. Ishtar, it’s all about investing in infrastructure. Without it, you really cannot develop a professional scene...” 

Isono, the ever dedicated and hard-working Kaiba Corp executive, was giving a seminar on e-sports-based economic development strategies as Isis and Seto ate their second lunch. He enthusiastically clicked through an informative powerpoint presentation on his laptop. Having missed the height of the lunch rush, the white-tiled room with sparse decor was practically empty, making the restaurant an improvised meeting room. 

_Six minutes more..._

“...as you can see here,” Isono continued as he tapped on the keyboard to advance to the next slide, “these are some numbers looking at the pros and cons of creating a setup based on Duel Disks and one based on traditional Duel Arenas…”

Seto was silently picking at clumps of rice on his leaf, sneaking impatient looks at the giant clock behind Isis while trying to avoid accidentally locking eyes with her 

_Why isn’t it going faster?_

“...I haven’t looked into the specifics for Egypt, due to such short notice, but I can ask my marketing team after this meeting to send over a personalized packet we compile for all of our potential clients…”

Seto had instructed Isono to give a polished and personalized presentation on the nuances of building a Duel Monsters infrastructure in Egypt using the powerpoint presentation they had used months ago for the Malayasian government. It was the optimal decision given the cards he was dealt with. Isis may have tried to annoyingly corner him to call it a date in front of Isono, but he turned the situation around and decided to use him as an invaluable alibi. Worse than being pitied as some kind of emotional wreck for Isis to heal was the idea of Mokuba finding out that he was casually hanging out with her all afternoon. He needed to use subterfuge. 

The goal was to teach Isis a lesson, the obstacle was Mokuba. The best way to keep Mokuba in the dark was to have Isono’s testimony. It would prove that they were purely acquaintances meeting for professional reasons, nothing more. Alternatively, if Mokuba found out that this was a revenge date if not a genuine date, he would probably go off to give him a friendship speech, an unfortunate habit he picked up from Yugi’s cheerleaders he called friends. 

And he did not want to be talked out of this revenge plan. 

Unfortunately, watching Isono give Isis a presentation he wasn’t even getting paid for was palpably boring. A personalized consultation with a high ranking Kaiba Corp personnel usually cost potential clients more than most people’s retirement funds. But it was the surest way to ensure that Isono believed that Seto and Isis were meeting _purely_ for business. Sure, Isono was being encouraged to throw away valuable Kaiba Corp time and money ultimately because Seto was feeling petty. But when you’re a multi-national corporation worth trillions of yen, you can afford to burn the odd one million yen for a free one-hour consultation with his chief business strategy adviser for stupid shit like this. All that mattered was that Isono needed to leave in less than five minutes so he could continue with his long con. 

“...Visually what is striking about these two charts here is that it shows how the number of registered players jumped exponentially once duelling arenas became more ubiquitous. Duel Monsters was obviously a very different scene in Japan less than ten years ago.”

_This was supposed to be fun..._

Isis had just wanted to go on a date with Seto. A simple enough desire with a modest enough goal to understand him in a more personal and less antagonistic light. Who was Seto Kaiba the young man growing into? What was he like behind the chilly demeanour and condescending snarks? What truths could she discover about herself and him if their acquaintanceship crawled, even if it meant agonizingly slowly, all the way up to at least a friendship? 

Isis’s enthusiasm to share an elaborate South Indian-Malaysian feast with Seto was weighed down by Isono’s presence. She had no ill will towards Isono of course, he seemed like the perfectly competent and loyal right-hand man to balance Seto’s egomaniacal public persona. 

“Was the Duel Monster’s scene really all different in Japan?” Isis inquired as she ate a morsel of rice with her right hand. She, of course, had lost interest in this presentation thirty minutes ago, but her years as a civil servant instilled her with a habit to always look absorbed in other people’s conversations. “You’ll have to forgive my knowledge in this area as I lived a life that was very... _subterranean_.”

“Subterr—?” 

“She means, _sheltered_.” Seto only pitched in because he did not want to spend ten minutes having to explain Isis’s bonkers family history and profession, especially since that opened the can of worms that is Pharaoh Seto and whatever fever dream-like thing he saw in the world of Atem’s memories.

“Oh, I see!” Isono remarked politely. He assumed that the unusual choice of diction was due to Isis not being a native Japanese speaker. Much like how she referred to his employer so intimately and without honorifics.

_Come on, come on, hurry up you stupid clock..._

“Thank you, Seto,” Isis briefly nodded at Seto before turning her head back towards Isono’s laptop screen. “But going back to what you were saying, how it was different in Japan years ago?” 

Seto rolled his eyes as he tried to suppress a frustrated groan. What perhaps felt more painful than pretending this was a business meeting with Isono here, was the agonizing anticipation of desperately waiting for it to end. What was worse was that Isis was pitching in and dawdling a forty-minute presentation to feel like it took a day. _Did she not want this to be a date?_

“Ah, yes. Until Mr. Kaiba came along, Duel Monsters did not have the status that it does now. Largely because of his innovative technology to make the game feel very real. Without him it would just be another, as Mr. Kaiba puts it, ‘a silly parlour game’. Hence,” Isono clicked on the keyboard to go five slides back and Seto could feel the life draining from him with each tap, “why this graph here is so important.”

“This is all so fascinating, very useful.” Isis paused and briefly glanced at Seto through the corner of her eye. “It reminds me of a fact I learned in a university lecture on how the mastery of irrigation canals in Ancient Egypt allowed for agriculture to flourish.” She paused again and Seto already knew where she was going to take this conversation. “Come to think of it, that class was such a long time ago! It’s when I first met one of my best friends...” 

While Isono diligently gave his presentation, Isis would continually interject, anything from genuine clarifications to irrelevant facts about herself. You could forgive anyone who mistook Isis for being engrossed and interactive in Isono’s presentation. The baseline intensity and focus of her resting neutral face certainly did not help to correct anyone’s impressions. 

“...She invited me to her family’s house for Eid that year. It’s when I ate the most delicious thing I had ever tasted: umm ali. It’s a rich baked pudding made of nuts, milk and puff pastry and it is divine, especially when it’s made with palmiers.”

Like the many times in the past half an hour she had embellished Isono’s presentation with these personal anecdotes, Isono politely listened. The customer is God as the saying goes. 

“You should try it sometime,” _Seto_ , “If you’re ever in Giza—” 

_And five!_

“Stop the presentation!” Seto declared before turning to his right to face Isono. “Do go and prepare for your remote meetings now.” 

“Ah! Yes. Thank you for reminding me Mr. Kaib—” Isono was interrupted by the sound of his cell phone going off. He seemed surprised by it, not expecting someone with his work mobile number to call him before the actual meeting. He promptly excused himself from the table with a polite bow and situated himself in an isolated hidden corner of the room to take the call.

“He forgot this,” Isis whispered as she noted Isono’s closed laptop. While they couldn’t hear Isono’s exact conversation, they could hear his voice nearby, muffled by the walls. “You should take it to him, Seto.” Seto clicked his tongue, a bit miffed that she thought him the type to take things to the people he employed. 

“He’ll be back in a few to get it,” Seto informed in a quiet volume though not a whisper. “He needs it for video conferencing anyways.” Seto sat back in his chair, noticeably looking more relaxed. “He’ll luckily be busy all afternoon once he comes back to get it.” 

Isis knitted her eyebrows. “Oh, so you didn’t want to bring him along?” Despite her whispering, the sarcasm was loud and clear. 

“I could say the same thing to you.” Seto mirrored her puckered eyebrow. “Your mindless drivel was making this longer than it needed to be. it could have ended at least ten minutes earlier.”

“It wasn’t that mindless, Seto.” Isis put her left elbow perpendicular to the table and rested her chin on her left hand. “I was using the opportunity to tell you more about myself. Did you learn anything new about me?”

“Oh sure, I learned a lot about you and then some,” his sardonic voice gradually turned embittered. “Your favourite dish is basically soggy bread drowned in milk. Your family grew up eating like rabbits. You inexplicably have actual friends who sound normal. Everyone thinks your favourite colour is white though you disagree. And the most audaciously irrelevant fact of all, bread in Arabic is the same as life in Arabic.”

Isis beamed, failing miserably to conceal her delight with her hand. “Yes, _aish._ Although, that’s only the case with Egyptian Arabic.”

A beat. 

Seto realized that his rant came off as _endearing_. 

“That’s not the point!” Seto’s volume teetered along the line of shouting enough to make Isono peek his head around the corner, phone still by his ear, to see if everything was ok. Isis waved at him with a harmless smile convincing him to retreat his head back and continue with his private call. 

“Besides,” Isis continued to whisper but more quietly for safe measure, “this was supposed to be a thinly veiled first date. You know this, I know this. Even if poor Isono was going to be dragged along I wanted us to know more about each other. You could have stopped me anytime, but you didn’t.”

“Bold of you to assume I even care about the nonsense you spout from your mouth.” Seto narrowed his eyes.

Isis took the final bite of her meal and folded her banana leaf over. “You cared enough to ask me what my opinion was in Macau.” 

“Whatever do you mean—”

“If I recall,” Isis interrupted as she dipped her fingers in a warm bowl of water with slices of lemon. “You kept asking me what I thought of the whole thing. If it made an _impression._ ”

Seto further distorted his face, the word reminding him of a time that seemed so distant despite it being so recent. A time when he wanted to actually impress Isis. He had to regain the upper hand. 

Seto scoffed, “I was trying this whole being _civil_ thing _._ You know, olive planting or whatever it is.” 

“Yes, but I do also recall you nearly putting yourself in danger when you decided to haphazardly exit the ride after you asked me if you were being civil enough. A very dramatic reaction to my ‘yes’ to your question.” 

Seto got defensive and irritated. “So what? I had things to do.” Isis knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere with this.

“Nevertheless, I was sharing things about myself because I know so much about you—”

“Because you stalked me with a magical necklace.”

“Indeed.” Isis took a moment to process the absurdity of the phrase. “But you don’t know too much about me. And I wanted to correct the asymmetry of our acquaintanceship, at the very least, make this a friendship if not something more.”

Seto paused. His intended plan of attack was to criticize her recreational choices for this date. He tried to insult her for choosing a seafood restaurant that was a bit too rustic for his fine tastes but that didn’t seem to affect her. Whatever slander he could think up for this place was made mote with Isono’s presentation being slowed down by Isis’s gratuitous interludes. Perhaps he was approaching this the wrong way. Isis was actually taking this date seriously after all, albeit in unconventional ways. 

Seto folded his banana leaf over, cleaned his hands with his finger bowl and napkin and crossed his arms. “It would be a lot easier for that kinda thing if Isono wasn’t here. You weren’t exactly making it easy to get rid of him.”

“Strange,” wondered Isis as she slightly tilted her head. “For someone who has so much money and power, it is puzzling how you couldn’t just turn to your employee and communicate that their services are no longer required.” 

“Except, Madame-Secretary General kept insisting to bring along my Chief Global Strategist.” He had more to say but stopped once he realized Isis just continued to stare back at him sternly.

_Maybe the rejection will be more devastating if I play the role of a charity case._

“Look…” Seto slouched, loosened his intertwined arms and turned to look at the white-tiled wall on his right. “It’s complicated. I have my reasons.” He knew his act worked when he heard Isis sigh sympathetically. 

“Isono already surmised this is not all for business. You are cognizant of this, yes?”

“Unlikely, I made sure to stress that this was a business meeting and nothing more.” 

Isis was beginning to think she underestimated Seto’s inexperience in the area of romance. For Isis, the first date was a trial to see if there was something substantial for something more. If it did not yield proof of this, it was an opportunity to get to know him and become friends. Maybe Seto was thinking five steps ahead and already thought this date predetermined something more. 

“We’re barely even friends, Seto. But friends go on casual outings to get to know each other. A friend-date, if you will. Why can’t you just call it that?”

“Because I don’t have friends!” 

_Hmm...might have hammed that up a bit too much._

After announcing such a pathetic statement so overdramatically, to Seto’s grave horror, Isis’s face was now openly pitying him. 

“...Seto, that actually sounds really sad.” Annoyingly, she was starting to sound like Mokuba or one of Yugi’s friends. 

Seto hissed. “No, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was I rather my,” _brother_ “employees not know the private details of my,” _petty shit_ “personal life.”

Isis’s eyes searched Seto’s face, the moment feeling vaguely uncomfortable as he could sense her dissecting him somehow, peering into his inner mind as she often did. She picked up her napkin and dabbed her mouth before placing it back down.

“Seto, are you afraid to act on anything remotely romantic because you think you will be judged or rejected?”

“Wha—?”

“My apologies, Mr. Kaiba, Ms. Ishtar.” Isono returned to the table after ending his phone call, pulling out his chair to sit back down.

Seeing that Seto was a bit stunned by her question, she decided to fill the silence. “Isono, we were wondering if you accidentally forgot your laptop.” 

“Thank you for your concern, Ms. Ishtar. But I was just informed on the call that my meetings have been delayed. I can continue on with my presentation.”

Reading between the lines, Seto looked at him wide-eyed. “Why did Mokuba push back the meeting?” He had tolerated this past forty minutes under the assumption that Isono was going to call Mokuba directly afterwards.

Isis found his reaction to this news particularly interesting. 

Noticing his boss’s overreaction, Isono decided to clarify. “He wanted to move the meeting by another hour or so for personal reasons. I am free to continue the presentation. I can even accompany you to your next location, Ms. Ishtar.” 

Isis and Seto locked eyes with a mutual thought: _This is a hostage situation._

Isis politely inquired, “how much longer is the presentation, Isono?” 

“Another ten minutes or so. Would you like me to continue?”

_Time for one last test..._

“Yes, Isono, please do,” was Isis’s reply. She looked back at Seto. “Unless Mr. Kaiba has other obligations for you to attend to immediately.”

Seto, remembering that Isono was going to talk to Mokuba inevitably about this meeting in an hour, he needed Isono's alibi. He decided he was going to agree to continue the presentation. Even if it was going to bore him to death. 

“Isis!” 

Luckily for both of them, they had unexpected guests. Seto turned his head to see the source of the approaching voice and groaned at his discovery. 

“Kaiba?” 

Standing beside their table were Yugi’s and Rebecca’s grandfathers. 

_Now, this is truly a hostage situation._

“Mr. Motou, Professor Hawkins!” Isis warmly greeted the two elderly men. “What a surprise to see you here,” Isis remarked, switching to English. 

“My word, what a pleasant surprise indeed! And what company you keep!” The two men were astonished to see _the_ Seto Kaiba casually lunching with Isis in an informal place like this. “Did Mikail recommend this place to you too?” 

Isis chuckled. “I suppose he recommends this place to everyone. Remember the article in the magazine I showed you this morning?”

_These three pyramid freaks are actually friends?!_

Yugi’s grandfather brought out a copy of the aforementioned magazine which Seto presumed had some article on types of local cuisine to try. “‘Yes! I even swiped myself a copy from the hotel.”

The professor joked, “we’re not exactly trying to impress the ladies at our age. So we thought we might as well explore the food capital of South-East Asia.” 

Isis nodded, “I am in a similar adventurous mood myself.” Isis gestured to her banana leaf as evidence. “Did you try a durian yet?”

Seto and Isono, feeling quite left out of the conversation, politely waited for the three Egyptologists to finish. Seto was briefly lost to his thoughts, noticing the similarity of Yugi’s grandpa hairstyle to that of someone else. The whole world was truly trying to make him remember him, wasn’t it? 

“You should come join us.” Isis’s invitation to the two elderly men snapped Seto right out of his thoughts. 

_Fuck no!_

“Ah, I’m afraid we’ll have to decline. We just finished eating out on the patio.”

_Fuck yes!_

“How did you manage with the heat? At least there's AC in here.” After hearing Seto’s complaint about sitting in the open air, she was a bit surprised to see two older men deal with it just fine. 

“The heat, though a bit more humid in comparison is not new for us.” The professor affectionately elbowed his longtime friend. “Brings back memories of digging away near the Nile, eh, old bean?”

“Hmm, it certainly does.” Sugoroku nodded, stroking his beard and closing his eyes. 

“Maybe you could join us instead, Isis! Our taxi is just outside and it looks like you’re almost done here.” The professor gestured to their folded banana leaves. “We were going to go do some touristy things and see some more egyptology buddies that are in town for the exhibit. It would be an honour to have you join us, Isis. It’ll be a grand old time! It isn’t everyday one is in the company of the head of the Supreme Council of Antiquities!”

“You’re too kind.” Isis was flattered by such high praise.

Mr. Motou, feeling guilty and rude for ignoring her lunch companions, aimed to rectify this by extending the invitation. “I would invite Kaiba and Mr—?”

“Isono.”

“Yes, both of you as well, but I’m sure you are very busy people and will find Egyptologists a boring bunch.” He clearly invited them out of obligation. 

“Regardless, what say you, Isis?”

Isis took a moment to contemplate.

Despite her name, Isis was no benevolent goddess. When determined, she had an undetected ruthlessness that made people who misread her as kind and maternal to mistakenly blame their newly developed misfortunes on everything but her clandestine ploys. It was how she got her job as Secretary-General at a prodigiously young age. It was how she managed to get enough authority to negotiate a deal to drop the charges against her brothers. Her motivations were not power for power’s sake, but rather the power to lay out the plan to fulfill sacred duties or protect her family. Simply put, Isis was an end-justifies-the-means type of a person if it concerned her brothers and duty. She hadn't thought of what this meant for more ambiguous causes such as this.

She knew Seto would be obstinate and difficult, but she dealt with him because of the fate of the world and her brothers were precariously in his hands. This date was an exploration of something that was neither for duty nor family, but selfishly for herself. She saw this date as a chance to explore or even start something that was purely and selfishly for herself. Her life previous to this had been largely occupied with fulfilling the needs of those she revered and those she loved. It was a road most arduous and quite lonely, with many nights spent in isolation, double-checking her work against the visions of the future and distant past. There was a time in which she thought the best ending was to beat Seto and stop her brother herself, even if it cost her life. Seto, of course, put a stop to that plan and created an even more favourable future, a future with hope. Who else better to further venture into this new chapter than the man who partly made it all possible?

But she never thought she would find herself sitting across Seto like this. Here she didn’t have to pester him to do the right thing because there was no objective morally correct choice in this case. No grand prophecies chiselled on stone tablets saying that she and Seto are destined for each other. No great danger that could be fought off if they became a romantic item or not.

She thought back to that night in Macau when she saw a Seto so vulnerable, so raw, so emotionally mature and it made her realize that she wanted to get closer to him. Combined with his other qualities, massive ego and all, she was willing to deal with his unique ‘charm’. 

But was she having fun? Yes, except now she had to sit through a presentation because Seto was afraid to show any action that could be interpreted as some kind of emotional weakness to anyone outside his brother. If she walked away from this table now, she knew she would be saying goodbye to any potential for romance between them. However, given her interactions over this past meal, maybe she would have more fun with Seto if they became just friends.

“Actually,” Isis finally spoke, “that sounds quite fun. I think I will join you.” She got up from her chair and turned to face the two seated men. “Thank you for this, Seto. Thank you for your hard work, Isono.” 

It was at that point that Seto realized he was at a crucial decision point. Isis could walk away from the table, marking an explicit end to their meal. On the surface, this act seemed innocuous. She was a busy woman who, much like himself had far more important and enticing professional and personal obligations to attend to. However, Isis had very clearly expressed to him she thought of this as their first date. He instinctively knew that if he let Isis leave this table right now, this would be their last and only date. More importantly, it did not end with him having the last word or the cathartic emotional release that comes from making her pay. 

He wasn’t exactly going to have her taste the highs of amorous false hopes and the lows of romantic irrelevance if she ended the date prematurely on her terms. 

“Isis,” Seto finally intervened, “you seem to forget that we had something very important to do.” Seto knew he was in the right direction when Isis stopped rummaging to find her cellphone in her handbag. “Isis and I—” 

Seto dredged his brain for a convincing excuse. Isis and I are going to definitely talk about more vague business stuff? He had already done that and it resulted in this exact situation. Isis and I have to practice tolerating each other’s presence? Believable but again very vague. Isis and I have a duel? But then everyone would want to come to watch and give mindless commentary and reaction shots even if he wiped the floor with her inferior duelling skills. What excuse would satisfy her and not use the word date? 

He spotted a museum ID card she pulled out of her bag, embellished with a few hieroglyphics.

And then, an elegant solution hit him.

“Isis and I had planned to translate some Hieratic texts she found in her family’s archive.” Seto turned his head to specifically address Isis, praying to the universe that it worked. “You were going to show me high definition scans of the Hieratic texts.” 

The two elderly academics were reminded of Seto’s connection to the Pharaoh and found this excuse highly plausible, if not a great contribution to the forever crumbling library of knowledge that is Egyptology. In contrast, the flabbergasted Isono tried to figure out how and why his employer went from needing advanced translating software to read the Hieratic inscription on an Egyptian God card a couple of years ago, to being exceptionally fluent in the script now.

Isis studied Seto’s stern face as he gazed straight at her. She knew the metaphorical duel was on her move so she decided to negotiate some terms.

“Surely we won’t be needing Isono’s services for this?” 

Seto without removing eye contact or a change in expression addressed his employee. “I don’t think we’ll be needing you to continue the presentation, Isono. Please make sure to send Ms. Ishtar the personalized packet based on this meeting's discussion so she can share the information with her government.” 

A pause. 

“...Understood Mr. Kaiba.” Seto noticed Isono's brief hesitance much like he did yesterday when he told him to clear his schedule for this afternoon. The idea of Isono knowing things about him in areas outside of business was disconcerting. But he pushed the feeling down as he turned to Isis awaiting her decision. 

Isis turned to the two older men and bowed her head apologetically. “How foolish of me. It appears I somehow forgot about my other plans. I’m afraid I will have to pass on your offer.”

With that, the older gentlemen said their goodbyes and left the three at the table alone. 

Isis turned to Isono. “You wouldn’t mind dropping us off, would you? I have the perfect place in mind for me and Seto to discuss our translations.” 

Seto smirked deviously, Isis was playing straight into his hands.

* * *

Thankfully, the relentless heat and humidity receded in the cusp of the late afternoon and evening to bring in a spell of cool tropical air. Despite the sound of clamorous bustling crowds competing with equally loud street musicians on amplifiers, the visual contrast of strings of dimly lit orange lanterns woven around the fluorescent blue bright street lights, the delicious amalgam of sweet, savoury and distinctly durian fruit smells, Seto felt more relaxed than he had felt all day. He sat comfortably amongst a gathering of small square dining tables in the open-air night market, nibbling on some food in front of him as he spoke to his brother on his mobile. 

“Miss being in your bat cave at home?” 

“For the last time, Mokuba, I am _not_ secretly a bat obsessed billionaire.” Seto frowned, he was not fond of the comparisons to fictional superheroes with a penchant for vigilantism. As if he had the right alignment for that kind of thing. 

“You’re right, you are publically a _dragon_ obsessed billionaire.” Seto chuckled. People may deride his dragon obsession, especially in the form of his beloved Blue-Eyes White Dragon jet, but he did not care for those with poor tastes. 

“Well, yeah.” Seto played with a piece of cut fruit in his rojak salad with his chopsticks. “And why have you been speaking in French for the past five minutes?”

Seto could hear Mokuba rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “Sorry bro,” Mokuba quickly switched back to Japanese, “I...I was practicing my French with...the French kids after school?”

“Uh-huh.” Mokuba already knew his brother wasn’t convinced. 

“Fine! I just watched a very.... _original_ French arthouse film, is all.” Seto swore he heard Mokuba mumble, ‘it was so boring’. 

“Is this why you moved your meeting with Isono this afternoon?” Mokuba groaned, he clearly had not intended for his brother to find this out. 

“Seto, how did you find that out? I made sure to call Isono when you were far away from him. I even confirmed with your secretary!” 

“I have my ways. All older siblings do.” Like most older siblings, Seto was bluffing about his omnipresence. 

Mokuba teased, “you’re beginning to sound like you believe in magic, Seto.” 

“With the things I’ve seen you'd think this would have happened a lot sooner.” Mokuba had a good laugh. 

“So anyway, how is KL?” Mokuba’s casual question was incredibly loaded. Seto knew he had to be careful to reveal as little as possible. 

He decided to try talking shop. “The offices are coming along, hopefully, we’ll start operations next week provided—”

“Stopping you right there! Isono told me _everything_ .”

_Shit!_

Seto’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Taking a surreptitious deep breath awake from his phone, he narrowed his eyes and tried his hardest to sound nonchalant. 

“What did Isono tell you?” Seto calculated he needed to figure out what Isono shared with Mokuba. 

“Oh you know, status updates, stuff about contracts with the manufacturers, recruitment.” 

“Good…” 

“Isono also told me about a meeting with a potential client you had.” 

“And…?” Seto was mapping out potential routes of action in his head. 

“He said it was an Egyptian civil servant from the local embassy looking into developing Duel Monsters in Egypt more. I guess Isis must have forwarded your contact info?” 

“Yeah,” Seto said cautiously. It was less forwarding and more Isis being forward, but Seto felt no need to correct him. The fact that Isono didn’t reveal to Mokuba that it was with Isis did not go unnoticed. 

“You would think that the place that invented it would already have a developed scene, but apparently not. And yet, three of our Battle City finalists were Egyptian.”

 _Well, they had magical powers._ “It’s all about the infrastructure.” Seto echoed one of Isono's talking points. 

“So I’ve heard. Hopefully, they get back to us soon on that. And it might be nice to visit again since we didn’t get to explore much last year.” Mokuba sensing he shouldn’t be casually mentioning the trip that led to Atem’s departure quickly added, “of course, not anytime soon. Maybe when you’re up to it?”

“Yeah.” While Seto didn’t have any problems with the idea of travelling to Egypt for business, he appreciated that Mokuba said this out of genuine concern and not pity. 

“Isono, also mentioned you took the afternoon off to explore the city on your own?” Seto paused. Another incident of Isono conveying to Mokuba different details. Either way, he was grateful that Isono practised discretion but he was now concerned with what Isono thought he and Isis were _really_ doing. 

“Someone at the hotel planned a food tour of the city for me based on an article _they_ saw in a magazine.” Seto was trying his hardest not to mention the person’s name or pronoun. 

“Oh really? What’s the article called? Maybe I can ask Isono to pick up a copy.” 

“Eh...hmm don’t remember what it was called.” He reached over the half-eaten small plates of food for the magazine that was near the empty chair in front of him. He turned to the earmarked paged he had seen Isis turn to. “It’s called...wait it’s called 6 Malaysian foods to avoid on your first date?!” Suddenly the comment by Rebecca’s grandpa about impressing ladies made sense. He initially thought it was some English idiom he didn’t recognize. 

“That’s weirdly specific to base your food tour on. Anyways—wait, Isono just sent me an email that Tuesday evening's meeting is going to be postponed to Wednesday? How come you need another whole day in KL? You’re not having some kind of one-night stand are you Seto? Trying to cultivate some kind of playboy personality?” Mokuba was jesting. Of course, he knew what his brother was like. 

Seto was more disturbed that his little brother was old enough to know what that was. “How do you know what that is? Please tell me you aren’t trying to have sex at your age.”

“W-what? No! No Seto!" 

“I hope so.” Seto’s tone was stern. Around Mokuba's current age, Seto was busy with other more important and profitable pursuits which amongst other things, included plotting a hostile takeover. He only tolerated Mokuba dating at what he perceived to be such a young age because it did not interfere with company duties. 

“I know so. And the point still stands. It’s unusual for you to take a day off? Especially for a Project Neuron lab meeting.” 

“I guess my secretary didn't tell you. I planned on staying for two days in KL.” Seto knew the key here was to be abstract as possible. “Something about KL seems…captivating.” When Seto, on his romantic high, had told Isono to clear his schedule for the day, he responsibly squeezed his afternoon corporate duties to the next day. Post-plane ride to KL, when the excitement of potential romance turned to a thirst for petty vengeance, the schedule stayed the same though the reasons did not. "Besides, what is wrong with Wednesday evening?"

“Yeah...about that.” How do I say this?” Mokuba was trying to find the proper words. “I have a date that evening. Well, not a date _really._ She definitely didn’t want to call it a date. I know if I move it she might think I’m trying to string her along.” 

“Mokuba, is it with Keiko?” Mokuba could hear Seto’s disapproval in the question. “I thought she was already seeing someone else?”

“Well, it turns out her uncle was misinformed. She was studying for the math exam with one of the upperclassmen. We cleared up a lot of stuff when we talked today.”

“Let me guess. You two talked at school and she invited you on a date to go see a pretentious French film in two days so you spent this afternoon trying to watch the film beforehand in a panic?” Seto knew Mokuba very well.

“Sort of? Look, it’s complicated!” Mokuba didn't want to explain the nuances to something Seto did not have time for. “But anyway, got to go have another meeting with the team about designing a better water bottle, just like you wanted. Bye, Seto!.” 

Just as the call hurriedly ended, he was greeted by the sight of Isis holding two freshly made beverages in her hands. Isono had parted ways with the two to return to some urgent matter under his purview. The two had spent the late afternoon to early evening strolling through the vibrant Jalan Alor, an iconic night market popular among locals and tourists. Seto didn’t talk too much. He listened to Isis explain different things about the sights, the smells, the sounds, things that she had researched before the start of her one month post in KL. He usually stayed away from public crowded areas in Domino especially given his status as a local legend there. But he did admit he did not dislike exploring the city like this with Isis. 

As they reached the part of the market lined with hawker stalls on both sides of the street, Isis declared that she was in the mood for some dessert. Sitting at a white table with red chairs outdoors, the early evening air distinctly cooler, Isis and Seto had tasted the various plastic plates of sugary treats in front of them. Seto patiently listened to her confectionary commentary. She spoke of the subtle sweetness of spongy coconut pancakes, the crisp contrast in texture between batter and fruit of fried cempedak, the confusing yet delicious combination of the savoury sweetness of cut fruit, seafood and spices in rojak, the sensual silky mouthful of gingery soya pudding. She even praised the divisive creamy tanginess of durian ice cream garnished with freshly cut durian. 

“You're quite the sweet tooth, Isis,” Seto commented as Isis sat down in the chair in front of him. She handed him his drink, a cool sugary liquid made from melon, longan and sweet monk fruit. 

“So you’ve deduced my darkest secret, Seto.” Her expression was neutral as ever despite her playful words. “Whatever did I do to give it away?” she asked before a sip of her drink. 

“You’re not subtle when you don’t want to be,” Seto answered as he nodded to the half-eaten desserts on the table. “It’s fairly obvious.” Isis chuckled. 

“How is Mokuba doing?” She had left him to get the air mata kuching they were now drinking to give him some privacy to talk to his brother.

“Eh, some stuff about school.” Seto felt it unwise to air out his brother’s dirty laundry.

“Did he ask you what we were up to?”

“Well, I didn’t mention you.” Seto discerned what she was really asking. “Just mentioned I was meeting with an employee of the Egyptian embassy who wanted consulting on some policy stuff. He assumed you must have forwarded my contact info.”

Isis put down her drink on the table. “To be transparent Seto, my brothers are in the dark about you as well. They don’t know that my business meeting with one of Pegasus’s associates is someone they do not entirely like.”

Seto made an amused sound. “Sounds like we are on the same page.”

Isis looked surprised. “Mokuba disapproves of me?” She couldn’t imagine sweet-faced Mokuba swearing insults about her in the same way that Marik did about Seto. 

“No, I told Mokuba I never wanted to see you again.” The casual way he said this, punctuated by a long sip of his drink through the straw was subtly comedic. It made Isis smile. 

“Dramatic as always. To think you would be spending this much time with a ridiculous woman who spouted so much nonsense.” 

“Let’s be very clear: you still are,” was Seto’s snarky comeback.

Isis continued to smile. “A tolerable first date?”

“Sure,” Seto replied with a mild wry smile. 

_Hook, line and sinker._

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Romance is so hard because you have to write two characters at once. Seto is easier to write simply because he has so much screen time to work from. In terms of this fic, I'm glad I started with a younger and angst prone. I want his ability to romance to go from inexperienced Breaking the Ice by JustAWritingAmateur Seto to the confident and suave Fire by All_and_Sundry Seto. The growth will be fun to write. Isis is a bit more challenging but it is fun to interpret details from the canon and get inside her head. I hope I bring out an absorbing and thoughtful interpretation of Isis. Thank you to all the trustshipping tumblr posts that dissect why these two are so compelling together!
> 
> -the customer is god is a very popular saying in Japanese hospitality. 
> 
> -this chapter along with chap 9 features a lot of food. As I stated in a reply to a comment on my last chapter, I want this fic to be like a 90's Bollywood film where the falling in love song and dance sequences all feature expensive and exotic vacation destinations. But instead of scenery, I give you gratuitous descriptions of food, more food than what two people could realistically eat in one day. Highly suggest google imaging these because some of them just look plain pretty.  
> -banana leaf rice is a traditional South Indian meal found commonly in Malaysia, Singapore, Sri Lanka and of course South India. Regional differences are usually down to different choices of cooked vegetables, seafood, meat items. Also listed in the web version of the 6 Malaysian foods to avoid before a first date article.  
> -umm ali is Isis's canonical favourite dish (Marik's is Koshari. Does not list anything for poor Rishid). Marik and Isis list least favourite dish as 'meaty dishes'. Considering raising cattle is a bit difficult underground I imagine the Ishtars and their family are pescatarians of some kind.  
> -interestingly in Egyptian Arabic the word for bread, aish, is the same word for life. In other Arabic dialects its khobz. Aish baladi, which is perhaps the oldest bread recipe in Egypt (literally translates to traditional bread) is basically like whole wheat fluffy pita.  
> -rojak is a type of fruit, starch and seafood salad like thing doused in spicy and sweet sauces.  
> -fried cempedak is deep-fried jackfruit like fruit called cempedak.  
> -durian, also known as the king of fruits is a divisive yet delicious fruit from South East Asian. You have to smell it and try it to understand why. It's an experience. As you can imagine, this was listed in the same article about foods to avoid during your first date.  
> -air mata kuching: a refreshing sweet drink made from monk fruit, melon and longan  
> -Jalan Alor is one of the most famous roads in Kuala Lumpur as it turns into a bustling night market with long stretch of food stalls serving traditional Malaysian street food, leaning more into Malaysian-Chinese fair. 
> 
> -I always wondered if the brothers tell Isono anything about the magical parts of the anime that they experience. Hieratic, as I'm sure all Yugioh fans know by now is a script used by the priestly class, hence why modern Seto can read it via his past self's memories. 
> 
> -everyone go watch In the Mood for Love. You will not regret it.


	11. Inner Lives, Outer Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A renowned international magazine does a Duel Monsters special issue with mixed reviews.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is two for one deal in terms of chapter length. It’s a bit experimental with the story telling during parts but I hope it’s still fun to read. It’s more of an indulgent world building chapter.
> 
> Stay safe out there know there are many ways one can support justice in the world without necessarily needing to march on the streets (in case this might not be an option for you). There are plenty of resources online that detail this so research them well. Remember to listen and be willing learn and unlearn if you’re an ally.

_And now, for a break._

It was only a Tuesday afternoon, and Isis was already channeling a 19th century painting of a reclining woman by sprawling across the walnut leather chaise longue in her luxury hotel suite. Her morning was a whirlwind of meetings and diplomacy, related to getting the exhibit ready to open for the public and schmoozing at a private exhibition gala in the evening. Security briefs, finalizing the placements of a few minor artifacts and promoting the exhibit with a lecture on Ramesside love poetry all kept her occupied. The rest of her afternoon, while free of formal commitments until the evening, was going to be spent preparing for the gala, catching up on administrative work, and finalizing edits on her welcome speech with her assistant. But first, she needed a moment of respite from her packed morning. A stark contrast to her more laid back afternoon yesterday. 

_That’s right! I spent most of yesterday with Seto._

Lying down with an arm covering her tired eyes, her mind quieted down enough to remember for the third time today that she,out of all the people that he barely tolerated, went on a decent first date with Seto. The first time she thought about it was when she wondered why she woke up in a good mood this morning while brushing her teeth. She chuckled, looking into her reflection, processing the surreal fact that something that never ever crossed her mind in this lifetime had happened yesterday. Not only had they managed to spend hours being perfectly civil to each other, it was fairly obvious they both enjoyed it. 

Isis didn’t really think too much about romance, at least not since that one hot second in university when she did meet someone who temporarily made her forget her duty and her broken family. But that was then and this is now. After the prophecy was fulfilled, her priority was rebuilding her immediate family. 

She was never really an anxious person. Lifetimes of divination trained her to operate on the radical acceptance of fates. When it came to romance, certainly in her present predicament, nothing was set in stone yet. But that’s what made it exciting. Maybe they would go on a couple more dates and realize they could just be friends. Maybe they could realize they wanted something more? Maybe they might turn this into something more serious? Maybe they might break up? Maybe they might end up hating each other? Who knows? That was the beauty of it. Isis’s new chapter wasn’t going to determine the fate of the world and wasn’t predetermined by a prophecy. This didn’t mean prioritizing the needs of others before hers. Life was going to go on, she was happy to go along. For once, the endless possibilities, the different permutations didn’t matter as long as she was enjoying it and doing it for herself. 

_Although I do want to ask him what prompted him to see me differently._

_We’re only just beginning to become friends._

She looked at her cluttered desk in the corner, where she had finalized her lecture on Ramesside poetry last night. She remembered pouring over her translations of Ancient Egyptian verses, all glorifying the different stages and types of romantic love, to prepare an engaging lecture to promote the exhibit. There were annotated works, notebooks and files, a sight that admittedly paled in comparison to her graduate thesis days, and reminded her of Seto’s creative excuse. 

_Maybe I should ask him to help translate some things at Yugi’s party._

It occurred to Isis that she never asked if he was going to go in the first place, recalling their parting words. 

_“Seto, if schedules permit, we should do this again.”_

The second time she thought about her date with Seto was when she was reciting some poetry at her lecture, during a particular poem about anticipation. It didn’t at all really describe the stage of her and Seto’s current situation but something about the potential to see each other again like yesterday was something to look forward to.

Isis' thoughts were interrupted by the ring of her very loud mobile. 

“Sister.” 

“Rishid? Is everything alright?” Isis sat up in concern. Rishid rarely called on the phone on his own to chat when she was away, unlike Marik. It didn’t help that his default countenance heavily leaned towards stoicism to a far greater extent than hers did. She often joked how typical it was that this family trait skipped Marik. 

“I cannot find our passports,” Rishid said plainly. “ Marik used the old photocopies of it to book the trip. I’ve already looked at the steel wardrobe for the actual thing in the maid’s room but no luck.” They didn’t have a maid of course, feeling it a bit strange to hire someone for things they did themselves their whole lives. They just used the room for extra storage, space being abundant in their new house.

Isis relaxed back down into her seat. “No, not the maid’s room. The one in my room.” 

Rishid audibly paused, deciding whether to address something or not. Then she heard his footsteps tapping on the cool marble floor presumably towards her bedroom. 

“It’s not locked is it? The top ones have keyholes in them.” 

“I never lock them,” Isis began slowly, carefully choosing her words. “In case you two ever need your passports.” She knew she said the right thing, she heard Rishid respond with an approving grunt. 

“I need them for the Japanese visa application. It’s a good thing you cleared out the criminal charges. Or Marik and I would have to tap into our underworld contacts to get us there.” Isis made an amused sound, remembering the delicate details of bargaining for a clean slate for her brothers.

“Do you have all the documents ready? Anything else you need?” While Isis was afforded relatively easy international travel on her diplomatic passport, she knew that most of her countryfolk did not have such a luxury.

“Let’s see,” she could hear Rishid rustling through some papers. “ I have our passports, two four by six photos each, three months worth of bank statements—in English and sealed, proof of employment, day by day schedule, round trip flight tickets and hotel reservations. Which reminds me, Marik told me to tell you he convinced the travel agency to give us a good deal on short notice and wants it to be known that he has excellent bargaining skills.”

“Is this because of Kinky?” Isis smirked recalling how vehemently Marik insisted that the young employee at the travel agency was ‘just a friend’. “The travel agent who we’re pretty sure showed him what kink was?“ Even as his older siblings assured him that he didn’t have to lie to them, Marik denied it was anything, but his embarrassment was palpable when they nicknamed the man Kinky. He hide his face with the hood of his jacket and walked away from his siblings, lest anyone on the public streets thought he was associated with them. 

“If his coming home late last week was any indication, I say that he is _still_ showing Marik what kink is.” Isis pursued her lips to pull back her bout of laughter. Knowing Rishid, he meant this matter of factly rather than a witty observation.

“Rishid, I’m sure Marik felt lonesome when you started hanging out with Ahmed a bit more. Remember how you two were binging on mousalsalet and how moody and passive aggressive Marik was?” 

“Yes,” Rishid sighed, “but that was with a friend. It’s different when it's romance, or whatever he chooses to call it.” 

“Rishid, I assure you we will always be there for you. When Marik and I have romantic partners, you will always be our older brother we love and protect dearly. Similarly if you get one yourself.” Isis heard Rishid grunt in acknowledgement. Marik and Isis, given how their older brother had to bear so much abuse and trauma to protect them, always made it a point to let him know how much they valued him unconditionally even if he already understood this. 

The silence on Rishid’s end was longer than Isis expected. For seconds she considered if she had said too much. She was sure it was some subtle inflection in her tone of voice that he recognized from decades of knowing her too well. 

His following question surprised her. “Are you seeing someone as well, Isis?” 

Isis knew she had to say something fast, the longer she said nothing, the less convincing her refutation would seem. It also seemed hypocritical to not be transparent with him especially after joking about Marik’s poorly hidden relationship.

“Let's just say someone recently caught my fancy.”

“Marik mentioned you had a big meeting with one of Pegasus’s contacts.” The implication was very clear. 

_Well, I didn’t reveal it was with Seto..._

“Oh, it’s just a silly thought. It was a business meeting after all.” She wasn’t technically lying. “We might never meet again.” 

“I didn't think corporate types were your thing, sister. Is this table-man?” Isis silently smiled at the moniker. She already knew Marik came up with it and convinced Rishid to use it.

_Seto would be pissed if he heard this._

_I’m definitely going to tell him about it next time._

“Trust me, I am surprised by it myself.” She quickly pivoted the conversation, “but going back to what we were talking about. Have all you need to submit the visa application?”

“Yes, we somehow managed to gather all this up yesterday. Marik’s at the bank paying off the bills and mortgage in advance before we head to the embassy.”

“That’s gre—”

“Dr. Ishtar!” Before she could finish her reply, Isis heard the muted voice of her assistant calling for her in the adjacent living room. She said her goodbyes to her brother and went into the common area to investigate. 

“Apologies, Dr. Ishtar! Forgive me!” 

“What’s wrong, Hasina?” Her competent assistant, a young woman around Isis’s age, looked utterly exasperated. 

“Tea! Cards! Victorian lounge!” she sputtered while trying to catch her breath from sprinting all the way to her room. _Sounds like an afternoon with Pegasus at his English estate._

“Here,” Isis gestured to the leather chair nearby, “sit down and calmly tell me what’s wrong.” The two sat down and the assistant pulled herself together. 

“I forgot to tell you this morning that you have an interview with that American magazine this afternoon.”

“An interview? I vaguely remember you telling me about this. But they just wanted a quote, yes? Did I not already send them my statement?”

“Yes, but they want to feature you. Do a narrative profile on you.”

“Why would they want to meet me in person?” Her position wasn’t glamorous. Most people outside of her political and academic circles did not know what it was that she did. Hell, her own extended family still had trouble understanding what it was that she did.

“Apparently, a journalist you met at a Kaiba Corp event spoke highly of you. They recommended you to a colleague saying you would add variety for a special edition of the magazine. I think the name was Shimi-shimi? Shima-tuni’? I’m not so sure, the name was Japanese.” Isis had a strong guess who her recommender was. 

“Is that so? I’m flattered but I’m a bit puzzled as to why that magazine would want to interview _me_.”

“It’s for a special interest issue. They pick a relevant topic and publish one issue focusing on the topic in great dept.” 

Isis furrowed her brows. “Special issue? On what?”

* * *

  
“Children’s card games!?”

On a mid-March Sunday afternoon, the Kaiba brothers found themselves in a more laid back mood. After inaugurating a theme park, hosting their annual shareholders meeting and preparing for the opening of a foreign branch of the company, all in the span of two weeks, the brothers indulged in a quiet afternoon in the private library. Mokuba languidly sprawled his body across a robin blue settee, finding a new creative pose with each manga chapter he consumed. He had been eager all week to devour the large cardboard box of manga the house staff had the pleasure of transporting. Seto sat comfortably in his mahogany leather armchair and ottoman to catch up with world events and scientific journals. A neatly curated pile of literature, this too the work of house staff, sat on the side table beside him. The two brothers enjoyed the silence, more than content with using the downtime to just read near each other. 

That was until Seto found a special edition of a well-renowned news and culture magazine introducing Duel Monsters to people in the world who condescendingly deemed it just a children’s card game. Seto with great disdain held up the cover of the magazine, pinching it with just his middle finger and thumb to show Mokuba. Mokuba laughed. 

“I see you finally got time to read the special edition on Duel Monsters. With a title like ‘not just a children’s card game’ you know they have the pulse of the cultural zeitgeist.” Mokuba felt the need to clarify when Seto’s grimace deepened. “I was being _sarcastic._ ” 

Having the very serious, complex and high stakes game of Duel Monsters being called a children’s card game was one of Seto’s personal pet peeves.

“I don’t know why the staff added this to my reading pile. It will tell me nothing.” 

Seto usually started his reading session with reviewing all the daily editions of the leading national newspapers. The Asahi and Manichi broke the story on the Prime Minister dubiously selling state-owned land. The Yomiuri and Sankei decided to cover rocky ROK-Japan relations due to the “inaccurate” testimonies of “former requisition workers” seeking justice. Seto was never one to pick a side of the political spectrum; the narratives on the front page would have a different spin. But the numbers would always be consistent in the financial section: the Nikkei 225 and the TOPIX were both down. It was dry stuff, but good habits are not always enjoyable.

Before he started to dwell on how Gozoburo taught him to be politically ambivalent ( _“those with great wealth make their own morals”)_ and all the luggage that came with this thought, he decided to switch over to the pile of international publications. He spotted the red border cover of a special edition of a major news magazine. It’s cover showed a magnificent illustration of iconic duel monsters as if it were a movie poster, (rightfully) featuring the Blue-Eyes White Dragon. 

_Although...the Dark Magician being less important on this cover seems a bit...wrong._

Either way the edition caught his interest. It was unusual for the likes of a mainstream magazine with an ancient editorial staff to be interested in covering something like this. He was intrigued and opened the magazine to skim over an editor’s statement expressing how incredulous it seemed for a children’s card game to dominate the cultural zeitgeist. 

“These old farts are trying to explain Duel Monsters to _me_?” Seto sneered. Mokuba laughed as he got up from his seat towards the nearby box full of manga.

“Yeah, it’s written by filthy casuals,” Mokuba began as he rummaged through his giant cardboard box for another volume, “but having read it yesterday, I can say it’s really fun.”  
  


“Fun? Are you sure you don’t mean a waste of time?” Seto was not convinced. 

“It’s a bit like...” Mokuba contemplated a convincing metaphor. “It’s a bit like when the Yomiuri and the Asahi reported on the land selling scandal very differently; it helps us read inbetween the lines. It’s a bit like that. They profile a lot of people in our circle of... _acquaintances_ and it’s hilarious when we can read through the bullshit they're feeding the journalist.”

Seto squinted his eyes, “why would I _want_ to read about people bullshitting?” 

“Because it’s entertaining. Trust me.” Mokuba reclined back into the settee once he found the book he was looking for. “Give it a go. You won’t be disappointed.” 

“I think I’ll pass.” Seto was ready to throw it in the discard pile. 

“No! Wait!” Mokuba sat up suddenly. “There’s at least one long article about how great you are in there and sections of people praising you in the other stuff.” Seto raised an eyebrow. 

“Fine. I’ll read through it.” 

Seto turned past the table of contents, a sponsored article on card insurance and an ad on luxury clothing inspired by duelist fashion, to finally read the first article on the history and basic rules of the game. He skimmed through it, finding the information here a bit pedestrian, satisfied with the bits that correctly named Seto Kaiba as the genius innovator. 

The next article attempted to dissect the appeal of Duel Monsters accompanied with photos from major tournament finals in the past year. For a second Seto’s heart raced thinking that one of the photos might have captured Atem, but was both disappointed and relieved when he did not see him in any of them. He skimmed through this article as well, reading the pull quote: ‘the astronomic growth of Duel Monsters can be largely attributed to the technology, the funding and larger than life characters.’ _Makes sense._ The article didn’t name him directly this time, but he definitely felt credited enough given he invented the technology, funds so much of the industry and is a larger than life personality. Having his ego stroked was always satisfying. 

“I can see why you said I would enjoy this,” Seto said out loud to Mokuba. 

“See? Keep reading,” Mokuba suggested as he turned a page of his manga. 

Seto flipped past another couple of advertisements. One was a two page spread by his own company showing off the new Duel Disk. The other was a Cathay Pacific ad glamorously featuring Vivian Wong and Mai Kujaku with the tagline _‘My deck, my style, my Cathay Pacific. The official airline of duelists to travel in style.’_ He even spotted the logo of the International Duel Monsters Authority to validate this bizarre and subjective superlative considering his company had an airline as well. 

The sight of the next spread instantly twisted his face as if he had smelled something noisome. It was a very bullshit article profiling Pegasus with the laughably flamboyant title: _‘Getting to Know Maximillion Pegasus: How a Tragic Heartbreak and Trip to Egypt Changed the World as we Know it.’_ The photos were also hilariously ostentatious. One featured him wildly galloping on a horse towards the sunset in a pair of red cowboy boots and matching hat. A second one featured him soaking in a luxurious bubble bath drinking champagne and eating candy. Another captured him contemplating an abstract portrait of a blond woman he was working on in his art studio. If Seto had to guess Pegasus was trying to cast himself as some tragic broken hearted soul. Sentimental. Romantic. Introspective. 

Seto’s suspicion was proven right when he read some of the pull quotes. 

_‘I lost the love of my life forever, but I used my rage to create something that would bring people joy to young people.’_ Seto scoffed, being privy to the fact that his motivations were far from selfless or altruistic and in fact traumatized young people, still remembering the nightmarish fear of being unable to save Mokuba himself. _“I’ve been switching to abstract paintings these days. It’s how I can still express myself in between all my business dealings.”_ Seto rolled his eyes and groaned, knowing Pegasus well enough to know this was all affected and staged.

“Pegasus is really laying on the bullshit here.” Seto’s voice edged with irritation. “I can smell it without even reading this.”

“It’s hilarious, isn’t it?” Mokuba smirked. “When I read the quotes it made me realize how strange it is that we’re on better terms now. Considering he stole our souls and stuff.” Pegasus and the Kaiba brothers weren’t exactly enemies, but weren’t exactly close friends either. It wasn’t like Seto himself didn’t have skeletons in his closet as well. 

Seto sped through more generic articles: ranking different cards, an article on Egyptology and some Duel Monsters related ads, including a professional duelist-only dating website. He stopped and smirked with self-satisfaction when he read an article titled ‘Seto Kaiba: The Genius Who Changed Our World.’ 

_That’s fucking right!_

The article went into the history of how Seto transformed Kaiba Corp from an arms dealer to game industry titan. The story was, of course, approved retelling, calculated and litigation proof, a narrative his publicist parroted to the public. They were orphaned kids who through skill, intelligence and brotherly love (this was Mokuba’s addition) were able to bootstrap themselves into the Kaiba dynasty and transfigured it into an upstanding gaming company. 

_“Seto Kaiba, while no longer maniacal like many allege he was in his early days of leadership over Kaiba Corp, has come to grow into the status of a legend that exudes confidence and excellence...”_ He knew the press could not touch him or pester him about the morally dodgy parts of his rise to power. Whether people believed it didn’t matter as long as the media printed his version of the truth.

Seto’s eye caught a quote from his brother: _“My older brother is always finding ways to create technologies that seem like the stuff from our wildest dreams. He is never one to slow down. That’s the secret to his success.”_ Mokuba had offered to speak for Seto knowing he didn’t want to deal with platitudes and personal profiles in the way Pegasus clearly enjoyed. He was glad that Mokuba didn’t ask him to participate in this. 

“Thanks, Mokuba.”

Mokuba without looking up from his manga, raised his thumb up. “Also thank your publicist. It was her idea to get my quote in to make you seem more down to earth.”

Seto scoffed, “now why would I want to seem more down to earth?” 

“To show that you aren’t _only_ a condescending ice prince. People like it when you show your human side. According to the publicist, apparently I humanize you in the public’s eye. Good for the brand story.” Still not looking away from his manga, Mokuba flapped his free hand, “keep reading, Seto.”

A quick gander at the article on duelist rankings where he placed second behind Yugi, (he chided himself for thinking of Atem again), another speedy glance at 25 under 25 people in Duel Monsters article, and then Seto stopped his hands from turning the page when he saw the words _‘ The King and I: A day with the ’ King of Games’, Yugi Motou._

Seto slowed down to absorb the candid photos that accompany the article. One is of him teaching a couple of small children how to play Duel Monsters in his grandpa’s game shop. The next one featured him in his room ( _so that’s what it looks like_ ), smiling widely as he called on his cellphone, with group photos of him ( _just him_ ) and his gang tapped to the wall around him. The last one shot of Yugi sitting at a park bench with hazy eyes, staring off into the distance as the lively world of the park continued on regardless. 

Seto recognized that look and it cautiously lured him into reading the adjacent section of the article. 

_“Looking at Yugi, one senses that he has lost something in the past year despite having won all the tournaments he entered. Many people had expected him to continue winning more tournaments after last year’s KC Grand Championship title. He seemed an unstoppable force; a duelist on his way to become a household name on his card playing skills alone._

‘ _I’m taking time off, actually.’ says the young duelist. ‘My life changed at the same time last year. I had to say goodbye to someone very close to me. They were the one who really taught me to be the person I am today. He was my other self.”_

_When asked how he was coping with such a tragic loss he points to the foundation of his great inner strength. “I’m very fortunate to have very close friends to support me. Spending time together, grieving together, understanding and appreciating bonds with this person. It’s not easy. To be honest I’m still not out of it. But it gets a little...”_

For a second he considered he wanted to shut the magazine close and discard this volume. The reminder of Atem and his unexpected feelings of romantic rejection still being a bit raw especially with the reunion coming up in a week. He sat up straight and then looked at Mokuba, who was now reading his manga as he sat upside down on the couch, poorly hiding surreptitious glances at his older brother over the edge of the book. A realization hit Seto. 

In a forthright tone, “Mokuba, I’m still not going.” Seto automatically knew he hit the hail of the head despite Mokuba trying very hard to reel in his guilt by readjusting the manga to cover his eyes.

“What...do you mean, Seto?”

_Honestly, at least give a more convincing delivery._

“Yugi’s reunion party next weekend.” As soon as Seto returned from Malaysia, Mokuba showed him the invitation mailed in by Yugi to a reunion party to mark a one year anniversary. Mokuba, after Seto stubbornly dismissed the notion of his attending despite Mokuba’s persistence, knew he had to get creative. Unfortunately his latest attempt was no match for Seto’s high perception. 

Mokuba sighed and then added more gently, “what did you think about Yugi's article?”

Seto softened his expression at Mokuba, no longer needing to keep the pretense of apathy after the Macau confession. “Yeah, it was...strange. I know what happened,” Seto trailed off. Mokuba nodded his head slowly waiting for his older brother to gather his thoughts. “Yugi’s never going to be the same person ever again is he?” Mokuba shook his head in agreement. “Sometimes I wish I could talk to him more without walking on eggshells.” 

“You could always change your mind, Seto,” Mokuba suggested softly as if speaking louder would snap his older brother out of vulnerability and his icy guard would come back up. “You are invited to the party. I know you don’t like all of them but they all remember him. Yugi will be there.”

‘So will the stupid mutt he calls his best friend.” Seto himself recognized the snark seemed defensive and out of place when Mokuba’s eyebrows curved up in concern.

“Seto...”

Seto sighed. “Fine, that’s not the only reason. I just- I’m not even the one who lost someone. I’m sure for Yugi, it feels like losing a part of yourself, a sibling. I’m just someone who realized they were two different people relatively recently and then the person that I wanted to keep dueling forever, left forever. I can never talk to him again, never have another duel. I didn’t even say goodbye properly. Sure a Egyptian clone of me from the past is his cousin and is spending the afterlife with him, but _I_ am still here.”

“Seto, maybe talking to Yugi might give you some closure?”

“Closure on what? That I didn’t get to duel Atem one more time?” 

“Well, maybe? You could always duel Yugi if that was the only issue.” 

Seto squeezed his inner eye sockets with two fingers. “But that just makes it strange, like I’m using Yugi as some kind of replacement. It doesn’t help that he looks so much like him too. He’s even starting to sound like him. I know with my own two eyes that they are not the same person. But the resemblance now is just too much.” 

As Seto finished admitting this, Mokuba had a revelation.

“Seto! You know what this sorta reminds me of!?” Mokuba looked visibly excited, he quickly got up to rummage through his giant cardboard box. He then pulled out a volume of a manga. ‘ _D.N. Angel’._ Despite a red headed boy being featured on the cover, he got the sense it was a romance title, a bit unusual for Mokuba. 

“Since when did you start reading shoujo?” 

Mokuba rubbed the back of his head, “ehh, since I enjoyed the not-date I had with Keiko last week.” Seto read between the lines. Mokuba was reading up on romance manga to bring himself out of the self-perceived friendzone. “This manga has a very complicated love triangle in which a fourteen year old boy has an alter ego who is a sexy master thief.” 

“...why?” 

It wasn’t the most ludicrous thing he read in a manga, his real life experiences overshadowing any bizarre Shounen Jump plotlines in his honest opinion, but he was always amused by threadbare explanations to justify contrived nonsense. At least Atem was a spirit of a 3000 year old Pharaoh who sealed himself into the puzzle to stop a great evil. 

“Family genes.” Suddenly he gets that the title is a pun on DNA. On second thought, maybe his real life experiences were more nonsensical 

“I can’t decide if that is more or less believable than the puzzle thing.” Mokuba laughed at his brother’s joke. 

“Anyway, so he switches between two personas whenever he thinks about the girl he likes romantically.” 

“Sounds inconvenient.” If Mokuba was anything to go by, this fourteen year old would be constantly facing some kind of personality disorder. At least Atem came out whenever card games happened. Which on second thought, he realized happened too often as well. 

“So, plot twist. The girl he likes rejects him but soon he keeps bumping into his _twin_ sister and starts developing feelings for her.”

“He seemed to move on quickly.” 

“Well...” Mokuba paused ruminating on some newer plot developments in the later volumes. “It’s a bit more complicated. But the point is that at first all he can see is the other twin but then he starts seeing her as a different person despite sharing a face with her sister.” 

Seto slowly blinked twice, his face blank. 

“Are you suggesting I get together with Yugi?!” Mokuba went wide-eyed at Seto’s interpretation of Mokuba’s message. 

“No! Not at all what I was suggesting!” Mokuba frantically waved his hands. “It was more that Yugi may look the same, but he is his own person. If you get to know him better and maybe talk about Atem with him, you will develop a new bond of _friendship_.” 

“So?” He admitted when he invited Yugi to his events, his conversations with Yugi seemed superficial. Yugi probably sensed this too and sent him an email to hangout to play games with each other to become better friends. Which -he remembered just then -he hadn’t replied to it yet. 

“So, come to the party to make this happen.” Mokuba weakly appended his argument. “It might even be a Hanami party.”

“Nah, I’ll pass.” Seto had thought about it when he for the past couple of days. He needed time to himself on that day for his sake. 

“But everyone will be there! The Ishtars…” _Now that was surprising._

“Even those circus freaks? All the way from Egypt?” He knew Isis was only 7 hours away in Malaysia for the month, but he had to keep up the pretense that he didn’t go on a date with Isis this past week. 

“Well, actually, Isis is in KL this month for some massive exhibition.” 

“...fascinating,” Seto tried to figure out how his brother knew that. “How do you know that?” 

“Oh, eh...well I was just checking in with her after you said you never wanted to see her again last weekend.” It was within a specific context and Seto hadn’t said those words exactly, but the sentiment was understood.

“So, you were cleaning up my mess?” Seto crossed his arms. He wasn’t exactly thrilled that Mokuba was trying to get on the good side of the people he vexed and vice versa. His younger brother should have better things to do with his time.

“Well, to be fair, it was more checking if there was a mess because we are friends in a way? Yugi told me that the Ishtars planned to come as well. I wanted to offer plane tickets in case they couldn’t afford tickets on such short notice. Isis let me know that Marik already got them. Something about friends with benefits? I think she meant best friend, I’m unfamiliar with the English term she used. But basically, Yugi had asked if I could reach out to them.”

Seto realized that Mokuba has a better rapport with Yugi than he did. And that Isis revealed a little too much about her brother’s personal life to his younger brother.

Mokuba misinterpreted his brother’s reticence. “And I know you don’t like her all that much, but she’s actually fun to talk to.” 

_Yeah. She surprisingly is._

“She even gave me some ancient Egyptian love poetry and they are actually pretty good. She mentioned one of the poems in her article.” 

“Article? What article?” 

“In the magazine. She was interviewed as well.”

“...why?” She may have been a Battle City finalist, but Seto strongly suspected she didn’t even carry her deck everywhere anymore, like a filthy casual. 

“Because...well read it for yourself! She talks about you there.” Mokuba chuckled and continued. “Isis clearly doesn’t think you like her. Which is true...She never really names you, but it’s pretty obvious. Read it for yourself.” 

Seto squinted his eyes, “this isn’t another attempt to convince me to attend the party, is it?”

Mokuba raised his hands defensively. “No, it’s just a funny read. The journalist is clearly in love with Isis.”

He debated reading it. The pragmatic thing to do of course was to ignore it especially given how his revenge plan was going. On his quiet limo ride back to the hotel, after Isis and him had parted ways in the late evening, Seto felt ecstatic. Not only had he gone on a successful date with Isis without his brother knowing, she had left it up to him to decide the next steps. 

_“Seto, if schedules permit, we should do this again.”_

He was never really an indecisive person, his strict childhood education and upbringing trained him to operate on quick optimal decisions. When it came to revenge, certainly in his present predicament, no strategy was executed yet. But that’s what made it so exhilarating. Maybe he could make plans and cancel them due to ‘unforeseen’ events? Maybe he could go on another good date with her and then reject her? Maybe he could call her right now and let her know he wasn’t interested in very scathing words? Maybe he could gaslight her and say this was nothing but a business meeting? Maybe he could do nothing at all and simply just ghost her. Who knows? The power to devastate a person with various methods to enact his vengeance, was titillating. When he remembered that this was all because she _dared_ to treat him as some pitiful charity case with a pitiful charity date, he felt especially thrilled. He enjoyed holding all the cards so much that he hadn’t made a choice. 

_Although, I do want to ask her what prompted her to see me slightly differently. Maybe she wasn’t pitying me. She didn’t mention the party or Atem at all. We might almost be friends now._

He looked at the magazine in his hands and turned to the page with her profile. The photo of her showed her her drinking tea in a dark Victorian drawing room, her face smiling but subtly more stern. It was different from the relaxed and more intimate smile she had as they nibbled on Malaysian desserts in the cool evening air. Given the date of the magazine’s publication and some details Isis mentioned on their date, he deduced that this profile was written after their time together.

“Fine, I’ll read it.” 

* * *

**Queen of Egypt: Meet the Young Woman who is Egypt’s Ambassador of its Ancient Past.**

If there is one point that this special issue intends to impress, it is that the world of Duel Monsters has no shortage of larger than life personalities from all walks of life. The wunderkind inventor turned billionaire, the grieving artist turned flamboyant game creator, the nerdy Japanese high schoolers turned professional esports athletes and tenured egyptologists with rogue archaeological theories are all just the tip of the iceberg of an expansive submerged world. We stumbled upon a whole cast of characters whose behind the stage involvement makes us realize just how large this iceberg truly is. As Duel Monsters captured the mainstream cultural zeitgeist all over the world, Egyptology has garnered a renewed interest as well. What was intended to be a short quote to corroborate the shocking claim that Duel Monsters is based on a game from Ancient Egypt, led to us discovering a hidden figure: a young Egyptian woman who is the Secretary General of Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities. Her name is Isis Ishtar. 

When asked to describe her job, it is clear that Ms. Ishtar sees herself as a steward of history. How appropriate it is that I interviewed her in the historic Hotel Majestic in Kuala Lumpur, built by and for the bygone British rulers of colonial Malaysia. Sitting in the relaxed ambience of the drawing room in all of its dark Victorian decor, Isis and I indulged in history by taking part in a classy tradition of afternoon high tea. We are lucky to enjoy the heritage room alone, sitting among maroon tinged leather sofas with a view of the distant Petronas Twin towers through the large windows. Much like Isis herself, a young person interacting with ancient history, the setting was very much a nexus for Malaysia’s past and present. 

“I’m a firm believer of cyclical history,” Ms. Ishtar commented. “The recent interest in Egyptology is not something new. The 1920s had a Tutmania after the discovery of Tutenkamen’s tomb. It greatly influenced Western fashion, art and architecture. I’m sure you’ve seen the hotel lobby’s art deco style. It was a style that borrowed heavily from ancient Egyptian aesthetics.” 

As we sipped Darjeeling Tea in elegant white china and nibbled on sandwiches, scones and sweets, a combination of nosh with British meets Malayasian sensibilities, I got the opportunity to better know this Madame Secretary General. Ms. Ishtar was effortlessly chic as well as intense. She accessorized the wheaten linen dress elegantly draped around her slender frame with bright golden jewelry coiled around her thick pin straight black hair. The ensemble resembled murals of Egyptian nobility of antiquity, a look that would look humorously antediluvian on anyone who didn’t have the weight of her presence and poise. It is almost hard to believe that she is almost 23 years old when she seems like she has had millennia to ease into the casual elegance she naturally exudes. 

Isis chuckled demurely when I shared this observation with her, “I suppose it is a surprise to see someone like myself in this post. Especially since it has traditionally been the office of older men.”Clearly aware that she must seem like an anomaly, she added, “Egypt has one of the lowest Gender Inequality Index scores. I believe we are 110 out of 187 according to the number released this year. The government is committed to changing this image. My appointment as Secretary General three years ago is proof of this. I take my job very seriously.” Her responses are diplomatic as ever but I felt tempted to prod her a bit more and delve a bit deeper. I asked her if she had any critics who might accuse her as the unqualified token diversity hire. “Of course, but to succeed one has to be able to stand one’s ground. I may be young but make no mistake and I am more than qualified for this position. Besides holding a doctorate in Egyptology from a prestigious Egyptology faculty, Ancient Egypt is quite literally in my blood.” In between a sip of her tea, Dr. Ishtar casually dropped a bombshell: “I come from a family of tomb keepers.”

At first I thought she jested or even misspoke, her accented English marking her as an eloquent non-native speaker. However, the more she elucidated the more I understood that she truly did come from a long line of subterranean tomb keepers who kept their duty from around 1300 B.C.E. to as recently as a year ago. “We were bound by certain spiritual and religious duties that required utmost secrecy and isolation. Though there are only a few hundred or so of us, my ancestors have managed to have some minor influence in Egyptian politics over the millennia because we preserved a lot of secrets of one of Egypt’s largest exports: Ancient Egypt tourism and scholarship. I suppose you can say historical stewardship is in my blood. It was how I was able to complete my academic studies so quickly as well. Ancient Egypt is less faraway and obscure when you grew up reading and writing hieratic and speak fluent Middle Egyptian, Late Egyptian, Demotic, Coptic and Masri. My family still practices a version of the Kemetic religion.” Upon this astonishing admission, I truly understood why Isis Ishtar holds the position she does. Who better to be the authority on Egyptian antiquity than someone who grew up experiencing it as a living breathing cultural tradition? 

As one would expect, Isis’s mission to steward Egypt’s ancient past at home and on the world stage involves constantly curating exhibitions all around the globe. It was the reason I was enjoying afternoon high tea with her in Kuala Lumpur. She is currently curating an exhibit on two iconic mummies. “It’s a monumental event really. Tutenkamen and Ramses III are two very famous New Kingdom Pharaohs. We’ve been getting a lot of interest from duellists as well.” 

At last, the reason I came to interview her had presented itself. I asked her if the claim that Duel Monsters is based on an Ancient Egyptian game. Without missing a beat, “Yes. There is a common theory in archaeology that miracles and magic was very much more potent in the past as there were many believers who depended on it: these forces were quite strong in an era where technology could only do so much or less accessible. Magic and miracles are still present these days but the need and the belief in their usability has significantly abated.” I asked about her explanation for real duel monsters that appeared all over around a year ago which everyone mistakenly believed was Kaiba Corp Solid State Vision technology gone wild. “Occasionally, we still have unexpected spurts of magical energy like that, but they are much more rarer now. Why depend on magic when technology makes everything much more accessible and convenient? It’s a change my family is struggling to grapple as we enter into another millennia this year. Especially since it was our first year living openly, without secrecy. But you see, technology, especially advanced technology, is often described as magic when you don’t understand how it works. I believe science will one day finally catch up to explain and understand the occult and the arcane. Magic and science are just two sides of the epistemological coin; they are two traditions that aim to understand and explain our natural world and the human condition in different ways.” 

I got the sense she was thinking of someone in her circle in particular who did not care for this point of view, and that someone is a duelist. “All I can say is, the appeal of Duel Monsters is so fascinating because the technology and the game itself is such a perfect blend of magic and science. The games seem viscerally real with the holograms of larger than life monsters,magic and trap cards. Yugi Motou, the current King of Games, attributes his success to his ability to combine faith in his deck as well as deft strategy. I’m sure when you interviewed him he mentioned the phrase the ‘heart of the cards’.” He had indeed. 

This casual name drop suggested that Isis, as well as being a diplomat, scholar, tombkeeper and curator, had somehow found time to insert herself in the upper echelons of DM celebrity. As if that discovery alone wasn’t fascinating enough, she added that she was also a finalist in Kaiba Corps memorable Battle City tournament. As with most things in the interview, she delivered this fact in an understated tone. “Ah, yes. I dabbled in professional dueling circles whenever I got the time. I’m a bit rusty now. The last time I think I duelled seriously was against Seto Kaiba. I lost of course, but then again he is amazing.” 

Once again, another curveball. I felt the need to clarify that she was talking about _the_ Seto Kaiba. “Of course,” Isis adds as if everyone has the same access to legend. “Pegasus and I—“. Another low-key name drop of Duel Monsters royalty and Isis was amused by my shocked expression at the quantity and quality of her Duel Monsters connections. “I suppose I have friends in high places. Certainly makes my government job seem quite glamorous,” Isis joked. 

This unaffected coolness, combined with her magnetic air of mystery around this very young, beautiful and intelligent woman is what compelled my editorial team to decide to profile her. 

“I’m quite pleased that as a consequence of Duel Monsters, Egyptology has garnered a resurgence. My government recognizes this and it's the reason we have been organizing big name exhibitions like this.” When I asked her about the enduring allure of Ancient Egypt she answered, “I suppose to people it is such a long time ago and what we know about the five thousand years of civilization is an interesting paradox of the bizarre and familiar. We have records of elaborate death rituals, great pharaohs and a long list of technological and scientific innovation. We also have records of more tangible things such as love songs from three thousand years ago.” 

Wait, we have records of romantic poetry from Ancient Egypt? “Yes indeed! I was delighted to find out about it in school since it’s the type of thing my conservative family would call distracting from our former spiritual duties. Thus any records of this kind of thing that we may have had often gets destroyed or hidden in secret corners of our archives. But hardworking Egyptologists were able to find paypruses and ostracons with secular love songs from the New Kingdom.” The enthusiasm at which Isis spoke about this discovery suggested an inner romantic spirit. I asked her if she could share some translations for us to accompany the article but she instead offered to recite the following poem from memory. 

_I'm going downstream on Kingswater Canal,_

_with leave to attend the Sun Festival;_

_I want to wander there where the tents_

_are pitched at the far end of Mertiu Lagoon._

_I'll hurry along—I can hardly keep silent—_

_thinking of God's holy Day,_

_For maybe I’ll see my truelove go by_

_bound for the Houses of Offering,_

_I’ll stand there with you at the mouth of the Mertiu_

_(heart, are you with me or back in Ra's city?),_

_Then he'll turn back to Offeringhouse Orchard,_

_where I'll steal from the grove by the chapels_

_A branch for a festival fan._

_There I can watch the whole celebration._

_With my eyes upturned toward the holy garden,_

_and my arms full of flowering branches,_

_And my hair heavy with sweet-smelling unguents,_

_What a splendid lady I'll be!—_

_Dressed fine like a princess, for Ra,_

_Lord of Two Lands, on His feast day._

_Fine like a bride, love,_

_I’ll stand there (waiting) beside you._

By the time she regaled me with a beautiful verse about the very human emotions of romantic longing and the natural high of being in love, I was in pure awe of this charming person. She laughed and added that not all of her acquaintances find her so enchanting. “I know a man, who, and I won’t say who, finds me a ridiculous and irritating woman who believes in magical nonsense despite believing in said magical nonsense himself, albeit from a more scientific lens.” 

She assures me that the relationship with this difficult person has become more civil recently. “It’s nice to make friends with people whose world view opposes your own. I'd like to think we are gradually coming to understand that our worldview is not all that different. Much like Duel Monsters, whose popularity I believe is largely due to being an amalgamation of paradoxes, our nascent friendship is a meeting of stark contrasts.” I asked her to clarify what she meant by paradoxes. “Well, Duel Monsters as a game is filled with them. It’s an ancient magical game brought to life with innovative modern technology, a game of luck and a game of skill and strategy, a ‘children’s card game’ with real adult-world stakes. It’s a perfect blend of science and magic, new and old, logic and heart.” 

When I shared this analysis and her hostile friendship (with someone who clearly has poor taste) with my editorial team back in New York, we were appalled that someone would be so rude to censure this utterly spellbinding young woman. Who on earth would find her irritating or ridiculous when she possessed the wisdom, intelligence, beauty and poise of a woman well beyond her years. Honestly, who?!

“I prefer to not say,” Isis reiterated with a subtle smile. “Publically he is a great boon to humanity, but privately he can be a bit petty. He’s a couple of years younger than me and he’s still getting over a recent loss of someone important to him. He also had to confront his hard past in the process. I’m patient with him because he is going through a lot. But, he is growing into a better person.” When I point out that the two of them seem more than just acquaintances she laughs and replies “we’re trying to learn how to be civil with each other.” It’s hard to imagine Ms. Ishtar being remotely ruthless towards anyone and vice versa . 

Before we knew it, our afternoon high tea in the drawing room of a historic hotel came to an end. As I thanked Dr. Ishtar for such a lovely afternoon, I felt elated to have discovered such an erudite and beguiling young woman in the world of Duel Monsters. The era of Pharaohs may have long left the Nile, but one afternoon with Isis Ishtar is enough to convince anyone that she is quite literally the Queen of Egypt. 

But seriously, we hope this unnamed acquaintance of Ms. Ishtar will lighten up and see how lucky they are to be in her presence.

* * *

_What hot garbage is she feeding them?!_

“Seto, you don’t look too happy with the article.” Mokuba noted that his older brother was trying to incinerate the magazine with his eyes. 

“It’s basically trying to convince me _specifically_ that I’m an asshole because I don’t understand how great she is.” 

Mokuba held back a laugh. “I think the journalist who wrote this was _really really_ in love with her. But you know, maybe he’s onto something. Hang out with her or something. You might like it?” 

_I did like it._

_But that’s not the point!_

Perhaps rather playing the long game, which after reading this article seemed like an empty gesture, he needed to cut through the bullshit and give a really scorching speech right now. A speech so searing that it will make her rue the day she _dared_ to pity _him_ , the great Seto Kaiba. His mere presence should make everyone and anyone ingratiate themselves to be around him, not the other way around!

* * *

“Isis, your phone is ringing.” Marik announced as he sat on his sister’s hotel bed. 

No response. 

“Isis! Your cell phone is ringing!” Marik thought he heard his sister yell something but he wasn’t sure. Marik reluctantly got up from the very comfortable bed and walked towards the bathroom door, hearing his sister’s echoey hums as she showered. He knocked on the door and it got her attention. 

“Something wrong, Marik?” Marik heard Isis yell behind the door. 

“Yeah, your phone’s ringing.”

“Oh, does it say who?” 

“What?” 

“The caller ID,” Isis yelled louder. 

“No it just says numbers. It’s definitely not from Egypt.” 

Silence on Isis’s end. Marik thought he heard something again but couldn’t make it out because of the phone. And then it stopped ringing. 

“Just put it on silent, I should be done with phone calls for today.” In a slightly quieter volume, “hopefully they’ll finally leave a voice message.” 

Marik did this and let his sister know as he walked away from the door to half lie back down on the large bed. Rishid was quietly lying down on the daybed by the large window in repose, exhausted from the long flight from Cairo. Isis had greeted them at the airport on a Sunday evening, her brothers deciding to spend a week in KL with their sister before going to Japan together. Marik had noticed Isis's phone rang quite a few times on their ride from the airport to the hotel. Sometimes she answered it and let them know she will call back later, her job being quite demanding now that the exhibit was officially open. There were at least three times, however, when Isis looked at the number and hesitated a bit, before putting her phone on silent temporarily to let it ring. 

“Rishid, Rishid,” Marik, feeling bored rather than exhausted, poked his older brother in the arm. Rishid still has his eyes closed but frowned

“Marik, please stop.”

“Yes, but I have a very important question. Do you think Isis is having some kind of affair with an older married man?” That certainly woke Rishid up. 

“Marik!” Marik snickered at Rishid’s reaction. 

“I’m kidding! Had to wake you up somehow. But did you notice the way, Isis kept letting some of her phone calls ring through silent?” Rishid sat up and shrugged his shoulders. 

“She probably has reasons.” Just as he said this, the phone’s small pixelated screen glows with the same number on display. 

“It’s the same number! It can’t be work related. Or she would have picked it up like the other calls.” 

“Marik, no,” Rishid warned, knowing full well what he intended to do. 

“Marik, yes,” he returned with a very devious grin on his face. “I know, I’ll do my British accent and pretend to be Hasina.” 

“Hasina doesn’t speak English in a British accent,” Rishid tried to grab the phone from Marik’s hands but he kept evading. 

“She does now!” Before Rishid could attempt another swipe for the phone out of, Marik pressed the green button on the phone. But before Marik could assault the person on the other line with the most heinous of fake English accents, he was bombarded with a barrage of very angry Japanese. It was so loud and acerbic that even Rishid heard and winced at it without the speaker. 

“Well, well, well! It’s about time you picked up! You’ve wasted my time enough this week! I have a message for you that I should have told you to your face a lot soon--”

“Kaiba!? The fuck?!” 

Seto went speechless, utterly mortified at the realization that he hit the wrong target. Lost in the frenzy of having finally got a hold of her on the phone to release the biting tirade he had been working on in his head over dinner, he didn’t even want to bother with hearing Isis say a ‘hello?’. He was also glad that Marik stopped him earlier before anything too revealing. Worse than Mokuba getting wind of this was if Marik got roped into this as well. Having a first hand awareness of his organized criminal activities as a Rare Hunter, dealing with his wrath for leading his sister on would be inconvenient and annoying.

“Why the hell are you calling my sister to yell at her?” 

“Because…” Seto wasn’t sure how to play this. 

“Just because my sister tolerates your edgelord ass, doesn’t mean—” 

“Look, Marik,” Seto’s mind raced to gather what he remembered about Isis’s excuse. “Your sister met with one of Pegasus’s business partners.”

“Wait, you,” Marik interrupted with amusement, “you know table-man?”

A snarl. “What?” 

“Yeah, the guy who hid under the table at one of your business conventions because he was really intimidated by Isis.” 

Seto wasn’t thrilled, but at least he wasn’t getting attribution to the table story. He was almost more annoyed at how empathetic Isis was enough to not taunt him with his table escapade on Monday. 

_Might as well play along_ , “Look I have official business with you sister. Your government is looking to use my expertise.” 

“So, what's table-guy got to do with this?” 

“What?” Seto was still off put by the moniker especially since it secretly referred to himself.

“You know, Pegasus’s business partners?” 

Seto growled, ‘why the hell do I need to explain any of this to you!?”

“Because I’m holding her phone right now. You clearly called because you wanted to pass on a message. A not very _nicely_ delivered message.”

Seto groaned in annoyance. All he wanted was to call out Isis for pitying him, a sin he deemed inexcusable and punishment worthy and then reject her by letting her know that despite what that indulgent article said, she never impressed him. This last part was a lie of course, but he always had a flair for the dramatic. 

“All you need to know is that Isis and I are working together…’table-man’...” Seto knew he had to consider the lie he told Mokuba, especially since both their siblings might mention it when they meet next weekend. “...he’s an associate of mine. He did something to waste my time recently. And your sister had a hand in it.”

“I already like table-man.” Marik stated mischievously. He took this as an opportunity to criticize Seto. “Maybe you should try learning some manners from him. He apparently wined and dined my sister this past week.” 

Seto was trying to figure out if that is what Isis told her brothers or if Marik was just bullshitting him to somehow try to make him feel bad about something. It wasn’t working or course. Luckily her other brother cleared this doubt. 

“Marik, do not tell lies, it was a business meeting!” Seto heard a deeper voice poorly whispering in the background. 

Marik returned in a similar facsimile of whispering, “yeah, but apparently he was so charming that she actually wants to see him again.” 

_Huh._

“Interesting,” was all Seto could muster. He was getting chastised by her brother for not being civil enough by being compared to another imaginary person that unbeknownst to her brother was also him. Seto rubbed his forehead from the sheer stupidity of this situation. 

“Look, clearly I’m wasting my time here. I’ll call her another time.”

“Good luck with that,” Marik taunted, “I’ll be around her this whole week! Whenever I see you calling on her phone I will be ready to answer it first!” 

_How annoying._

“Forget I even called.” 

The call ended. 

With a triumphant smile, Marik turned to a very concerned Rishid.

“Well nipped that in the bud. Whatever that was.”

“Marik, what if the call was an important call?”

Marik scoffed, “highly doubt it, it’s rather unprofessional of him to call like that. Hopefully he’ll send table-man to do all the talking for whatever they are working on. Just because he’s Seto Kaiba doesn’t mean he can treat our sister like shit.” 

Rishid may have nodded but he did so in deep doubt. Isis went to go see one of Pegasus’s business partners in Japan, talked business in Malaysia... but now Kaiba called accusing his sister of wasting his time? 

Was this truly all what it seemed? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -the Majestic suite is the largest suite in the colonial wing of Hotel Majestic in KL. Seems fitting for a diplomat like Isis. The hotel website has great photos complete with a daybed. https://www.majestickl.com/majestic-suite.html
> 
> -travelling on a less powerful passport can be a headache. I imagine her brothers would have to go through the official visitor’s visa process for Egypt passport holders. I had to look up this info at the official consulate website. 
> 
> -Seto would read all the international publications in addition to Japanese shimbun, which are newspapers. There are five major newspapers, and much like in Britain, each publication is on differing ends of the political spectrum. A great litmus test to understand each paper’s political leanings is how they report on the absolutely horrific war crimes and violence committed by Japanese Imperialism. 
> 
> -as for Gozoburo’s aphorism here, I was honestly trying to find creative ways to say “screw the rules, I have money”. Because no doubt Seto got that from Gozoburo.
> 
> -Mokuba, a 14 year old love-lorn Japanese boy, would turn to shoujo manga for romantic advice. Also I imagine when Isis called, she spoke Japanese but said friends with benefits in English and innocent Mokuba translated it as shinyu which is close friends in Japanese. The actual Japanese word would be senkkutomo/furu which literally is sex friend. 
> 
> -When writing the profile article for Isis, I was thinking back to those Vogue profiles where they are interviewing some up and coming actress or larger than life celebrity in some charming vintage setting and always describing the subject as effortlessly chic or cool. If you grew up watching a lot of Discovery Channel and History Channel, you will recognize this one prominent Egyptologist in all the Ancient Egypt TV shows: Dr. Zahi Hawass. He was the Secretary General of the Supreme Council of Antiquities from 2002 to 2011. So it’s not hard to believe that people in Isis’s position do enjoy a bit of celebrity. Especially if they look as good as Isis does lol. 
> 
> -I found this book Love Songs of the New Kingdom, which are translations of actual Ancient Egyptian love poems.
> 
> -Basically Ancient Egypt as a civilization spanned 3000 years. There are three main periods: Old Kingdom (aka when the pyramids were built), Middle Kingdom, and New Kingdom (when Ramses III and Tutakamen are from). In the English dub, Atem is a 5000 year old putting him in the Old Kingdom but in the Japanese dub and manga he is from the 18th dynasty making him New Kingdom which makes more sense considering he had horses and non-pyramid tombs in the valley of the Kings. Kazuki Takahashi did A LOT of research. Ramesside is a term for the 19th-20th dynasty (New Kingdom) in which eleven Pharaohs ruled, all of them called Ramesses
> 
> -Masri which is another name for Egyptian Arabic and is very much influenced by Coptic (which is the latest incarnation of Ancient Egyptian) in terms of vocabulary, pronunciation and syntax. 
> 
> -science and magic being two sides of the epistemological (aka the field of studying the way of understanding and studying the world) coin is an idea that a lot of anime imply, especially Yugioh. In the Japanese dub Seto finally believes in magic in the fourth season as opposed to the last season in the anime. It is implied that he believes it by seeing it as a scientific thing. (He also found a way to go into the afterlife in DSOD using technology after all.) It appears magic is more potent and common in this world the more humans believe in it à la Little Witch Academia. As the technology advanced magic’s power decreased as less people relied on it to the point it is seen as superstition. Hence Ancient Egypt had powerful magical duels but modern Yugioh Earth does not. 
> 
> -having said the science and Seto comment I’m finding minor but substantial differences between dub vs sub Seto. I’m more leaning in towards dub Seto because it’s the one most of us are probably familiar with but might borrow things from the sub and manga. But just assume I’m using dub Seto unless stated otherwise. 
> 
> -why didn’t Isis just text Seto? Because texting internationally was not in the mainstream enough for Isis to have the ability


	12. Other Types of Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At a reunion to remember a long-gone friend, Isis wonders how to include the Pharoah's greatest rival in the festivities despite his stubbornness to not be involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking a while to update this fic, had some personal things I needed to do. I actually wrote bits of this many months back but only got time to stitch it all together recently. The hardest parts of this chapter were writing everyone at the party and still making it feel natural and trying to figure out if I should have split this chapter into two parts or not. As usual, comments are always appreciated :)

Things didn’t entirely go as planned that Saturday morning for the Ishtars. That and Rishid realized he knew too much.

The day before their flight to Domino, an unusual rainstorm prematurely stripped away the cherry blossoms. Yugi called to check in on them this morning and informed them that despite the relatively sunny weather, the ground was still too wet for a picnic so the party would be at his house instead. The Ishtars, thinking it would be a sunny day, had decided to use public transport to get to Yugi’s house from the hotel. But as they walked out of the subway station stairs, they were greeted with specks of unwelcomed spring rain.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Marik complained. “I thought the rainy season was from May to July.”

“Well,” a tiny tinge of growing irritation peaked through Isis’s matter-of-fact voice, “thing’s didn’t exactly go as planned this week anyways. Seems rather consistent.” Isis then speedily walked ahead into the slowly accumulating rain, crossing the suburban crosswalk towards the direction of Yugi’s house. Her brothers were slow to follow her, although Marik attempted but immediately jumped back onto the sidewalk after almost getting run over by a passing car.

“Ra, that person is probably going to think brown people don’t know how to cross the street.” Marik grimaced as he heard the angry car horns of the passing vehicle.

Rishid walked near Marik with a large open purple umbrella in hand to shield his little brother from the increasing rain.

“Please be more careful Marik,” Rishid patiently warned. “And stay under the umbrella.”

“But what about Isis then?” Marik then turned to look towards Isis who, as if on cue, contradicted him by pulling out her red umbrella from her handbag before resuming her brisk pace. “It’s a good thing you made us pack these, Rishid. I guess she’s really excited to go to the party, she’s not even waiting for us”. On another well-timed contradictory cue, Isis spun around with her umbrella angled so it revealed her mildly irritated face and motioned at them to hurry up before once again turning around to resume her walk.

“I think she’s angry.” Rishid frowned as they safely crossed the street.

“Angry? Because of the rain?” Marik asked in disbelief. “She’s rarely that dramatic.”

“No—”

“Because the hanami party was cancelled? I mean fair, I was looking forward to it too.”

“Not quite—”

“Because she used the last of the perfume and she couldn’t find her back up so she had to settle for the expensive duty-free—”

Suddenly Rishid deftly moved the umbrella to shield the two of them from a massive splash of water from a passing car. He promptly returned it over their heads with his stoic expression never changing.

“No.”

“Then what?” Marik crossed his arms as they waited for the lights to change at another crosswalk that Isis had managed to clear before them.

Rishid looked ahead carefully towards Isis. She occasionally turned around to motion them to catch up but still kept walking. Her unflappable face slowly morphed into unveiled annoyance with each turn. The two brothers crossed another crosswalk as the lights changed. Rishid had ruminated on the subway ride on whether he should share his suspicion about their sister with his little brother. While he had decided to forgo the reveal of the name, he did figure out a way to broach the topic without connecting the dots to Seto Kaiba and potentially inciting Marik’s tendency towards high production value vengeance plans should he ever hypothetically get wind that Kaiba hurt his sister.

“I think she might still be mad about the phone thing,” Rishid admitted.

“The phone thing?” Marik was baffled enough that he almost stopped in the middle of the crosswalk before the rain snapped him out of it to go under the umbrella again. “ You mean from last Sunday? But that was like six days ago! Besides, I saved her from Kaiba’s bullshit if anything.”

“True and she didn't say anything more about it after,” Rishid agreed that Kaiba wasn’t exactly faultless here. He now knew that Isis's calm reaction upon learning about Marik’s meddling was probably a false front.

Marik however took his sister’s mild rebuke on face value. “Exactly! She just suggested I shouldn’t interfere with work stuff even if it was with the queen of drama. She’s never mentioned anything since. If that was still bothering her she'ld be more upfront with us about it.” Marik paused and then a mischievous grin broke on his face.

For a second Rishid worried that Marik figured out Isis’s secret as well.

“What if what she’s really mad about is that table-man hasn’t called?”

Rishid’s eyes widened, maybe Marik did figure it out as well.

“She’s into table-man. We already knew this. She even told you.” Rishid tightened his lips, determined to say as little as possible. Marik shrugged his shoulders. “Seems awfully suspicious that she hasn’t mentioned him once this week. This means he was leading her on and is now ghosting her or he’s been too busy. Either way, it honestly is just table-man’s loss. Though if it was the ghosting thing I think I might be motivated enough to cook up a plan to kick his ass.”

Rishid may have been the quietest of the siblings but he was the most observant. This led to discovering some uncomfortable truths about his younger siblings when they weren’t as spatially aware as they used to be with their millennium items. Rishid had accidentally caught his sister trying to call an unavailable number a handful of times this week. The scenes of frustration he observed started off as mild huffs of annoyance after hearing it go to voice message. Towards the end of the week, when he had walked into her temporary office in her suite to ask a question, she was staring at her phone with such intensity on her face, it was almost as if she was trying to incinerate the phone with her eyes. Rarely does someone make Isis angry enough for her to desire spontaneous pyrotechnic capabilities. When he asked her what she was doing she replied that one of her colleagues was incredibly petty and stubborn. This combined with the Marik’s interaction with Kaiba on Isis’s phone, started giving him an inkling of an idea.

A truly audacious idea.

“Marik, there must be some long term consequence to what you did that is making her very upset. You know how petty and stubborn Kaiba can be.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marik scoffed, “as if I was the one in the wrong for calling Kaiba out on his bullshit. Besides, Isis knows how to handle Kaiba’s wrath better than anyone. Plus, we’re not quite strangers but not quite friends. We’ll probably see him at the part—”

Another puddle splash thwarted thanks to Rishid’s quick umbrella reflexes. After returning the umbrella over their heads, Rishid shared an observation.

“I saw her trying to burn her phone with her mind on Thursday. I saw her even trying to do it this morning.”

Marik’s eyes widened. “Who the hell made _her_ lose patience?” 

“I don’t know. I didn’t hear the whole phone conversation with Yugi this morning.”

“Because both of us were trying to get in a good nap to make up for that loud baby on the plane? That and I sleep like the dead.” 

“...yes. But the snippets I did hear, it sounded like she was a bit disappointed?” Rishid stopped himself. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to share with his brother that he suspected, though yet to be confirmed by her, that table-man was someone much more familiar to them all. Isis sounded a bit frustrated when Yugi was unable to confirm if the Kaibas would be attending. She had apparently been trying to contact him all week but unfortunately, he hadn’t been picking up her calls or emails via his personal contacts. She even asked Isono to pass on the message. That was when he put two and two together. Why did Isis have Kaiba’s personal email and cellphone number? Why was she so upset that he wasn’t going to be there? Why was Kaiba ghosting his sister when Marik was the one who interfered? 

“Did she say anything about the call to you?” Marik was getting the sense he should be more bothered by this after all. 

“No, not really. All she said was that we were going to be late and that I should wake you up and not let you near her phone. I inferred it was referring to Sunday...which I should stress you shouldn’t have done.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marik rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t have said anything if he said nice things.”

Rishid grunted choosing not to comment further as they caught up with a visibly annoyed Isis. While he did agree with his brother, he was beginning to think that the protective gesture might have been unintentionally intrusive. He too wasn’t thrilled that Kaiba had called ready to hurl insults at their poor sister but he wondered if that too was part of the front to keep their secret interactions from public view. Isis knew what Marik’s opinions on Kaiba were. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine that they had decided to be clandestine in their interactions until they decided if a relationship was something worth pursuing. And while Rishid was not a fan of Kaiba either, he operated on a philosophy to let his siblings make their informed choices even if they were not the greatest of choices. He, as a supportive older brother, would stand by them regardless. Sure, this philosophy led to becoming Marik's henchman and putting him in a coma for a while, but the circumstances were remarkably different then.

Holding her umbrella, impatiently tapping a wet foot, Isis curtly commanded “Please, keep up."

Not wanting to perturb their sister further, the rest of the rainy walk was spent in a cautious silence as Isis led the way. 

* * *

“Isis, Marik, Rishid!” Yugi greeted the three Ishtar siblings at the door welcoming them into the entrance of his childhood home. “Come in, come in!” Yugi waved them in from the pouring rain. 

“It’s so nice to see you Yugi," said Marik before a chorus of laughter burst from the living room. “I guess everyone else is already here, huh?” 

“Oh, not everyone, but mostly everyone. We might have a few more.” Yugi watched as the Ishtars took off their shoes and hung their coats and umbrellas, “Everyone was bummed that we had to make it an indoor party.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” Marik pointed to Rishid’s wet umbrella. 

Yugi nodded, “but you’ll see that this is just as nice. It’s the quality of the company that really matters. I’m so excited that you made it all the way here for the occasion!” 

Isis politely replied, “yes, we’re happy to get the chance to see familiar faces.” 

Before Yugi could reply he turned his head to see his grandpa approaching the foyer as he was leaving the living room with an empty tea tray. 

“More old friends! Welcome!” Mr. Motou then addressed Isis specifically. “It’s lovely to see you again so soon, Isis. Arthur and I were talking about the fun we all had in KL. You have to let us know how the translations went with Ka—”

Isis interjected swiftly, “yes, indeed.” Wanting to divert the conversation, “which reminds me, my brothers and I have gifts for our generous hosts.”

Rishid, on her cue, presented a paper gift bag to Yugi and explained, "we got some snacks for everyone to share. Egyptian dates and some Malaysian snacks we picked up last night: kuih bangkit cookies, achu murukku, huat kueh cakes.” It wasn’t so much ‘we’ as much as it was all Rishid. He had already picked up the treats, learned to pronounce each item properly, and carefully packaged them by the time his younger siblings panicked that the package of dates might not be enough on the taxi ride to the flight they were almost late for. 

“How generous of you! Thank you.” Yugi slightly bowed his head in gratitude as he took the gift bag and then motioned them all to migrate to the loud living room. “I’m sure the others will love to try some of this stuff as well.” 

Mr. Motou slightly turned towards the siblings as they walked. “Yugi’s been excited to have you all together to play some games he picked up.” 

* * *

“And the Sumerians win all!” Yugi’s grandpa let out a peal of boisterous laughter as he triumphantly raised a fist. He turned to his fellow players, both frowning at the disappointing tally of their victory tiles spread on the low height chabudai table in front of them. The three Egyptologists had decided to have a go at a German board game with an antiquities theme called Tigress and Euphrates. 

“Those well-timed catastrophe tiles were damn fine moves, old bean.” Professor Hawkins nodded his head slowly, accepting his defeat. “I got a little too carried away with getting treasures during the late game but still my weakest category is absolutely dismal.” 

“Commendable strategy for sure.” Isis agreed, readjusting her legs on the floor cushion. “I’ll be honest I forgot that rule. I may have 25 greens but only 3 blues.” 

Grandpa sensed they weren’t too thrilled at their losses. “Cheer up, you two. It was only a teaching game after all.” He picked up his beer bottle placed near him on the table and lifted it up a bit in their view. “Have more drinks, relax, and have fun to commemorate the day.”

“Grandpa!” Yugi admonished as he passed their table, “please don’t drink too much! You know what your doctor said.” 

When the Ishtars joined the party, Yugi announced that it would be very appropriate to remember the long-gone King of Games by having fun playing some board games he curated for the occasion. They were all playing an enticing collection of German board games that he had spent a great effort importing. Everyone had split into groups, happy to spend time with kindred spirits and old friends lounging on the tatami floor of the living room playing board games as it poured outside. Isis, Mr. Motou, and Professor Hawkins decided to play a game that referenced their academic interests, the title referenced two great rivers of the Fertile Crescent. Marik, Jonouchi, Mai and Hirota were by the window, setting up another round of an Indiana Jones-esque treasure hunting game, as the radio near them played peppy Jpop. Rebecca, Ryuji and Ryou were diving into a game of Carcassonne as Rebecca was reinforcing some rule technicalities after translating the instructions from the original German. Shizuka, Anzu, and Yugi’s mother were laughing and catching up as they played a game of Modern Art with a silent but content Rishid. Yugi floated around the room to check up on the different groups to assist them with the games or just catch up. 

The elderly relative waved off Yugi’s concern. “Don’t worry. It’s only a happoshu, not the harder stuff. You’ll know the difference when you’re all old enough to drink the adult stuff.”

“Ha!” Jonouchi scoffed loudly as he pointed a thumb to himself. “Jokes on you gramps. Some of us are already 20.” 

“Really?” Yugi’s mother exclaimed as she covered her mouth. “ _Ma, ma._ Time flies so fast. Everyone is coming of age.” 

Anzu’s eyebrows twitched as she organized some cards in her hand. “Coming of age but sadly not necessarily wiser.” 

Shizuka giggled and Mai laughed out loud at the verbal jab and playfully slapped the irritated Jonouchi on the back. 

“Hey! You’re just mad that you get carded all the time in New York. What’s it there? 21?” Jonouchi teased back with a shit-eating grin, knowing it was a sore spot for Anzu to not be able to hang out with her older New York friends in trendy bars. 

“You guys actually follow those things?” Marik commented as he moved a piece. I started drinking a lot earlier than that, which let me tell you. I’m technically not old enough in Egypt. It’s why I could probably drink all of you under the table.” 

Ryuji chimed in as he twisted a black strand of his hair around a finger while contemplating his next move. “We should test that out,” he challenged, “but after we’re done playing these games. I must say, these are a great selection, Yugi.”

“Ah well, thanks.” Yugi shyly accepted the compliment as he rubbed the back of his head. “It’s not every day I get to see so many good friends in one place who I can play all my favourite board games with.” 

The doorbell rang and for a second Isis was convinced she had the power to will people’s presence to where they are the most reluctant to be. Yugi got up to open the door and they all heard him exclaim “Mokuba!” 

She waited to hear another name, but it never came. 

* * *

The party quickly turned more boisterous once the food and alcohol started flowing after a couple of rounds of board games. They had arranged a few chabudai tables around to make enough room for everyone and the food that Yugi’s mother had lovingly prepared and Yugi and Anzu had bought from the store. On the table was a spread of food that included oden stew, freshly made gyoza and karaage and store bought hanami bentos. The tea, alcohol and cocktails (prepared by Hirota who had started working as a bartender) complemented the snacks the Ishtars brought. Mokuba’s contribution, a strawberry and cream cake from a well known expensive bakery, was an impressive dessert to look forward to. Everyone was seated around the table, catching up with good food, drink and company.

“Mokuba, how have you been?” Isis may have been disappointed to not see the other Kaiba brother at this party, but she needed some answers. If Seto was too stubborn to come to this reunion party or be petty and ghost her because Marik dared lecture him, then she needed to get equally tenacious in her methods. “I believe we saw each other quite recently at your shareholder's meeting.”

Mokuba had been excitedly catching up with Rebecca before he heard Isis greet him. “Isis! It’s really nice the three of you could make it all the way here.” 

“Ah yes, indeed,” Isis said with a warm smile. “It always feels reinvigorating to be around kindred spirits. It’s a shame your brother isn’t here.” 

From the other side of the table, “hey Rebecca, pass the bowl of takoyaki will you?” Rebecca replied with a yes and got up to bring the bowl to the other side of the table and got caught in some pedantic argument that Jonouchi, Mai and Ryuji were having. 

Mokuba was distracted as his eyes followed Rebecca but shook his head realizing his conversational faux pas. He cleared his throat to hide his mild embarrassment and turned back to Isis. 

“Sorry, yes my brother. I tried my best all week. I was even hoping the article on Yugi would make him want to come.”

“Article?” 

Mokuba raised his eyebrows, “you didn’t know? But there’s an article about you in there.” Mokuba turns to Yugi who is chatting with Anzu and Ryou nearby. “Yugi, do you have the most recent Time Magazine? You know the one you’re featured in?” 

“Ah yeah...I did get a copy sent here,” Yugi put a hand behind his head, “but don’t remember where I kept it—.”

His grandpa interrupted with a proud grin and held up the very magazine turned to Yugi’s spread. “My dear grandson looks quite handsome in these photos, doesn’t he? Very deserving of the exposure!” 

Anzu playfully elbowed Yugi, almost like she was holding back a more intimate hug. “It was a really good interview. And you look great in the photos, Yugi.” 

“Thanks, Anzu.” Yugi smiled at her for a moment before being interrupted by the sound of Jonouchi clearing his throat and grabbing the magazine from grandpa’s hand and turned a few pages.

“Guess who else is in here.” Jonouchi held up a page with Mai’s advertisement. 

“You look so cool in this, Mai!” Shizuka chimed as she excitedly clapped her hands together. 

“Couldn’t complain about an opportunity to look glamorous professionally. Vivian, who is a part-time model among other things, had some contacts who wanted to feature us.” Mai turned to Isis. “But also, the 'Queen of Egypt' had a great interview in here as well. They were practically in love with you!” 

“Really?” Isis and Marik were both surprised. Marik took the magazine from Jonouchi and turned the page to find his sister’s interview. 

“No kidding,” Marik commented before reading a pull quote. “ ‘The era of Pharaohs may have long left the Nile, but one afternoon with Isis Ishtar is enough to convince anyone that she is quite literally the Queen of Egypt. ‘" Marik started laughing as he showed his sister across the table. "Amazing!"

Isis, not impressed by the grandiosity of the ridiculous epithet, was not pleased. “This seems a bit all too much." She scanned through the pull quotes and was almost horrified. 

Mokuba laughed nervously, “yeah, Seto wasn’t too thrilled to read this last week. It’s easy to spot the parts you were clearly referring to him.” 

Marik continued to read out bits, “ ‘publically he is a great boon to humanity, but privately he can be a bit petty...He’s a couple of years younger than me and he’s still getting over a recent loss of someone important to him. He also had to confront his hard past in the process...we’re trying to learn how to be civil with each other.’” He looked up at Isis, laughing at her expense. “Not being subtle here are we?” 

This caught Rishid’s interest enough to read over his younger brother’s shoulder to confirm the words himself. Kaiba had been inviting Isis to a few events this year so it makes sense that they had interacted a lot more recently.

Jonouchi cackled away as soon as he heard the word petty. “That’s definitely Moneybags, alright. Though you would think he would set aside his pride and come hang out with us.” 

Mokuba sighed, “trust me I tried. He’s been busy this week. Even had software in place so it blocked all of his personal calls and emails. ” Mokuba mumbled something about needing to get a burner phone for the week. 

Yugi connected the dots in his head. “Is that why my emails to him this week have been bouncing back? I tried to reach out to him. It would have been really nice if he could be here even if he doesn’t consider us as close friends. He was there to see the last duel and helped out in the world of memories. It feels important that he be here as well.” 

Mokuba softened his eyes. “Yugi…” 

“Ah, you already have the magazine out.” Yugi’s mother came with a tray of freshly steamed gyoza and placed it on the table before sitting down next to Anzu. “ I’m slowly realizing that practically everyone at this table was featured in it.”

Honda gave Jonouchi a mischievous look as he playfully locked his head with an arm. “Well not everyone. Jonouchi here didn’t even make the duelists to watch list.” 

“Hey! Rebecca's and the other Ishtars aren't in it."

Rebecca scoffed, "that's where you're very wrong." She asked Marik to turn to an article on young champions which featured a quote and photo of her. 

"And we've retired from the game," informed Marik as he pointed to himself and his brother. 

Jounouchi growled like a puppy, "just you wait! As soon as Moneybags has another tournament, you bet I’ll have a spot as a finalist!” Jonouchi raised his hands in a boxer's stance and punched the air. “I’ve been training pretty hard!”

Shizuka, an earnest sibling with receipts, innocently shared, “but big brother, you said you would start practicing after you finished Fuwa-Fuwa-chan’s ending in Puri Puri Love Time.” 

“Puri Puri Love Time?” Ryou inquired as he stretched out an arm to fill his plate with steamed fish cakes and fried chicken, “is that a video game?” 

Ryuji snickered as he sipped on his drink. “If by video game you mean harem simulator, then yeah.” 

An argument immediately erupted on the far side of the table, Isis used this opportunity to talk to Mokuba a bit more privately. 

“Mokuba, I need to ask you something. Did your brother say anything about why he wanted to isolate himself this week?” 

Mokuba shrugged his shoulders “Ah you know. He can be a bit of a grouch.” Isis’s next question surprised him though. 

“Is it because he’s trying not to process his feelings for the Pharaoh?” For a few seconds, Mokuba was speechless and then remembered how direct she can be when it comes to his brother. 

Mokuba scratched the side of his forehead, unsure whether to confirm or deny. “Is it really that obvious?” 

“Mokuba, it is a fact that my siblings and I observed and know to be extremely true.” Isis fingers the rim of her beer glass. “He certainly wore it on his sleeve each time he expressed his desire to duel the Pharaoh and prove how superior his dueling skills are.” 

“It really was that obvious,” Mokuba resigned with a sigh. “To be honest, I didn’t realize it until this year. Certainly puts his eh..obsession into perspective.” Mokuba gave Isis a regretful smile. “To be even more honest, I never thought Seto was the type to have those kinds of feelings for anyone. I joke that he should put himself out there but I never expected him to ever need to act on this until he told me that he did have feelings for him.” 

Isis gave Mokuba a sympathetic look. “Don’t be hard on yourself, Mokuba. You’re young yet. I’ve been trying to reach out to him this week knowing it might be emotionally difficult for him.” A revelation hit Isis just then. “I strongly suspect that my interview must have hit a nerve. And the fact that my brother,” Isis gestured to an occupied Marik, “interfered with a phone call might have caused a misunderstanding.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t take it personally. You know how he is,” Mokuba replied apologetically. “ I find that the best thing to do in these cases is to give him his space. There’s really only one person who he would want to talk to right now and we all know how impossible that is.” 

Isis looked at Yugi who was talking to a couple of others near them. 

“We have the next best thing.”

* * *

If there are other planes of existence, ones we can’t see but run parallel, which theory of parallel universes is the most likely to be correct?

_Like all funeral wakes, this one was quiet, somber and everyone attending already knew why they were gathered like so. Unlike most funeral wakes, this one took place on a boat, sailing down the waters of Egypt in the afternoon. A part of Seto wanted to call up Isono to pick him and his brother up and hurry his way back to normality as the rest of the geeks took a solemn river cruise back home. He thought against it despite himself, feeling much like the ceremonial duel, he was meant to participate in this improvised ritual as well._

If there are other planes of existence, spaces that no mortal could ever touch, where Pharaohs live in an eternal afterlife, does that prove the theory that parallel universes are extra dimensions of space, like parallel membranes? 

_Standing against the railings of the boat deck with the chilly winds flapping his white coat, Seto Kaiba found himself in a rare contemplative mood as he gazed at the waves with crossed arms and a stern countenance._

_The slow boat ride back after the other Yugi’s—no, Atem’s departure left everyone a bit solemn. Yugi and his friends and family were all reminiscing and supporting each other about the past couple of years with the Pharaoh. The Ishtars were also reflecting on their “shining futures”. Mokuba had initially stood there with his older brother but left to join Yugi’s gang once it got a bit chilly from the wind._

_Disciplined as ever, Seto allowed himself to indulge in reflecting on the past extremely surreal couple of days and years but only for another 15 minutes. After that, it was back to his cabin and opening up his laptop and doing something more productive. Lingering on the past was far from his favourite past time._

If parallel universes were like embryonic bubbles with different laws and constants, does that mean the afterlife is a bubble universe?

_The Pharaoh might be gone but not much has changed in his life. At least that is what he kept telling himself. Yes, he still had a hard time swallowing his Egyptian past and how it explained a little too much and yet not enough about some of his obsessions with a rival and a blue dragon, most of which he was not sure if he was ready to process just yet. But functionally, he was still a teenage CEO of a billionaire gaming corporation who has just expanded his brand by opening up a theme park franchise._

_But still, something felt different. The more time passed, the more he realized he didn't know how different it would be._

If multiverses were like probabilities of subjects entangled to all potential outcomes but were only able to experience one version of a universe, does that mean the universe is deterministic? Does that mean there is a parallel universe where things are very different? 

Seto shook his head trying to stop his brain from yet again wandering off into the past as he was pondering the existence of multiverses. He had been at his desk in his home office all day, determined to bury his volatile emotions with work, a trick that always seemed to do. Mokuba had left a couple of hours ago, with a final ask if he would like to come to the party. Seto of course did not change his answer. The last thing he wanted was to hang out with those dweebs who he barely considered acquaintances. 

Unfortunately, his usual steel-clad self-discipline and focus were failing him today. He rubbed his temples trying again in vain to refocus on a potential idea for Project Neuron. 

_He found Yugi by the rails of the deck and for a second he wondered why he felt the need to turn around. Yugi noticed him before he could do so and awkwardly called out to Kaiba. It was probably the first time they had spoken alone after he left._

_“Sorry, Kaiba. I didn’t notice you.”_

_Seto is not so sure what to say. The past couple of days had been a wild ride and he really had no one to talk to about it other than his brother. But of course, Yugi had experienced it with him, there was a greater foundation of mutual understanding here._

_“I couldn’t sleep.” Seto is not so sure why he shared such a mundane fact with Yugi._

_“Yeah, same,” said Yugi with a sad smile. “It’s a whole new normal for me and all my friends now.”_

_“Yeah,” was Seto’s plain reply. He wasn’t so sure what to say here. He may not be included in the ‘all my friends’ description but it’s not like he was entirely unaffected either. This fact became more apparent the more he talked to this Yugi._

_Seto supposed the most obvious change for him is that he would not have a formidable rival. Although perhaps this Yugi would continue on that legacy. The dynamic was a little different but the foundation was surely the same._ _He did beat Atem after all. Objectively that meant he would want to duel this Yugi forever and not Atem._

_“It’s so strange,” Yugi began as he looked at the water ripples, “I’ve only known him for less than a handful of years. But he’s touched my life so much. He’s helped me grow into the person I am….no, the person I am becoming.” Yugi turned to look at Seto, “I know he was quite the rival to you.”_

_Seto grunted, not having the energy to deflect with some quip about his far superior dueling skills or how he would have defeated the Pharaoh had Yugi lost. Somehow he feels a bit unsatisfied that Yugi mentions Seto’s connection with Atem but in this context of rivalry. JUST a rivalry. He couldn’t explain why, but it seemed incomplete of a description somehow._

If there are other planes of existence, spaces and dimensions that were never meant to interact, could he be able to figure out a way to do the impossible? 

Seto had the power of hindsight to know that the incompleteness was his latent romantic feelings coming to light. If he were honest with himself, talking to Yugi, the idea of reaching out to him and becoming proper friends, was literally talking to someone who had a more legitimate connection to Atem than he did. Yugi was privy to Atem’s thoughts and therefore would be the greatest judge of how unrequited Seto’s feelings were. He wasn't so sure if he wanted to connect with him on these terms. 

If the many-worlds theory of parallel universes is true, does that mean there is a universe in which Atem said something more? 

Being reminded of failure is always painful. Being reminded of romantic failure is even more painful, the rejection feels more acute and personal. He could faintly hear Gozoburo’s gloating voice threatening to taunt him again.

_“You’re still out here, Seto?”_

_He turned his head to the side and saw Isis’s beige clad figure approaching him. He returned his gaze back to the dark night waters once more as she stood beside him._

_“I was just about to leave.” The last thing he needed was another person talking about how things have changed when nothing really has. He started to turn around towards the door but Isis stopped him._

_“Before you do, I just needed to ask how you were doing amidst all of this. I didn’t ask you much about your trip through the Pharaoh's memories. I’m sure it brought up many questions and a whole new context to the Pharaoh’s duel.”_

_“I’m fine,” Kaiba replied curtly as he stared out to the water. As usual, she was trying to get in his head._

_“I would have checked in yesterday but my mind was occupied with the end. While it’s good to hear you are doing fine, I’m sure you have questions, Seto.”_

If there were infinite parallel dimensions, planes of existence no mortal could see, can someone from one membrane touch someone from another? 

_Kaiba said nothing but realized that she always presumptuously used his first name. He would attribute this to being a non-native Japanese speaker quirk, but Isis seemed a little too well versed in the nuances of the language to not be aware. This would have bothered Kaiba had he truly preferred the implied rigid hierarchies of the people around him depending on what they called him, but somehow, it felt perfectly normal that Isis called him Seto. Having to deal with Ancient Egyptian nonsense seemed like a valid enough excuse somehow._

_“I’m sure you have a lot on your mind right now.” Seto could see her reaching for something in the corner of his eye before holding out her hands with something rectangular. “Please take this and contact me for when you do have questions.”_

_He turned his head to look at her and saw that she held out an official government business card with both hands. In addition to the golden English and Arabic font with her name and title, handwritten in neat blue inked writing was another email, phone number and address._

_“I’ve added my personal contacts in case you need to reach me more urgently. You’re a busy young man after all.”_

_Perhaps it was years of being trained in proper business etiquette, he took the card and placed it in one of his many coat pockets. He didn’t expect to initiate contact._

Atem was a great duelist, a worthy rival. It wasn't fair that he was defeating two great duelists at once, but the energy that Atem brought to the table was exciting, it made him feel alive, it made him question things. But they sorted everything out with glorious duels. He understood duels, strategy and luck played out in a card game. The stakes were always clear, the outcomes were always straightforward. 

If there exist many planes of existence, all parallel and never touching, with different laws of physics, could someone theoretically find a way to travel to another plane?

_“Please, don’t hesitate to reach out.”_

He was Seto fucking Kaiba, therefore he should feel rejected by no one! He could use his technology and wealth to create something that can bend the universe to his will. Hell, maybe he could even find a way to travel to the afterlife and have a match with Atem himself and see who the true King of Games is between them. The title, a true mark of power will make any rejection and pity seem useless! That magical nonsense woman may have been all talk about science being able to explain the occult, but the great Seto Kaiba was going to figure out how! He just needed to call Mokuba and the head engineering team and have an urgent meeting right now! 

To his surprise, his cell phone buzzed with Mokuba’s temporary number. _Perfect, just the person I needed._

“Mokuba!” 

“Kaiba?” Seto was greeted with the voice of a ghost, but then he recognized the undeniable soft edge it had. 

“Yugi.” 

Yugi apologized, “I know you probably want to be left alone right now. Mokuba mentioned you were busy this week with work and stuff. But eh…” 

“So you used my brother’s phone?” 

“Yeah, with permission of course. But I wanted to ask, to check-in…” 

“I don’t need another person to check up on me, Yugi,” Seto warned. 

“Yeah, you probably have Mokuba doing that already. When I try to check in on my friends about _him_ , people tend to double down and ask how I’m doing even harder. I mean, I get their concern but it’s not like I’m the only one affected,” To Seto’s surprise, Yugi sounded almost genuinely irritated about this. “But that’s not exactly why I called.” 

“Really?” Seto wasn’t buying it though his defenses were a bit lowered. 

“Really. I wanted to ask about hanging out. You didn’t reply to my email. I initially thought that it was your way of saying no, but Mokuba and Isis—”

_Isis!?_

“...they told me about how you were blocking your personal stuff this week because you were so busy. But yeah, I mean if there’s a time you’re not too busy, I'm usually free on the weekends. I have a collection of German board games we could try or we could just hang out and chat and stuff.” Yugi then hesitated a bit, “m-maybe even reminisce about good old times.” 

Seto let out a breath he realized he was holding. He already knew who the good old times involved. 

“But why?” Seto challenged. “You probably know how I feel about thinking about the past.” 

With gentleness and determination that lectured him on the power of friendship in the past, Yugi answered, “because I know how important he was to you too. You had a special bond of your own just like I have mine with him.” 

When Seto heard that, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. 

The two spend the next half an hour talking about game mechanics in German board games. Kaiba recommended a couple more and talks about how his board game subsidiary is workshopping a few ideas. Yugi excused himself to go back to the party and compliments the dessert Mokuba brought to the party. They ended the call with a date for their hangout scheduled. 

After he put down his phone, Seto leaned back in his chair in thought. It still hurt that Atem left him with his unrequited feelings, but it was nice to have someone who truly understood acknowledge what he realized he always felt. 

_I hate to admit this, but Mokuba was right. Connecting with Yugi did help._ He supposed he had to take his brother to Rome this week to treat him to his favourite chocolate parfait. 

Yugi did also mention Isis; he did remember Mokuba mentioning she was at the party as well. He recalled the scene on the boat a year ago, handing him a business card he’s sure he intentionally misplaced. 

_“Please, don’t hesitate to reach out.”_

If this version of him lives in a universe where Atem is no longer in his world, then maybe he should reach out to someone who reached out to him. 

Slightly anxious, knowing that she might not pick up after all the times he blocked her from contacting him this week, Seto picked up his cellphone, went to his list of blocked calls, and redialed a familiar number. 

* * *

While chatting and eating delicious cake with everyone, Isis heard her phone go off. Her eyes went a bit wide when she recognized the number and quickly excused herself to take the call. She found a corner in the hallway that she had seen Yugi use. 

“Seto?” 

“Isis.” 

She wasn’t expecting to hear from him so suddenly, given he had spent the last week not returning her calls or not replying to her emails apologizing for her brother’s interception of their communication. She certainly wasn’t expecting to hear from him almost immediately after Yugi called him. 

“Are you alone?” Seto asked sternly. 

Isis was internally relieved that he was in the mood to talk to her. 

“If by alone you mean are my brothers around, no they are not. I am alone.” 

A prolonged silence as Isis waited for what she presumed was Seto trying to find his words. When she didn’t hear anything she decided to make the first move. 

“I want to apologize—”

“How was the party—” 

Isis shook her head, “you go first.”

“How's the party?” Seto asked, almost with trepidation aware of the fragility of whatever this could become.

“Well, everyone is here. Even your brother.” Isis was trying to parse the intent of this sudden reconnection. “But I am sure you knew this already.” She knew he was trying to tell her something. 

“Yeah.” He didn’t say much more, perhaps Isis expected too much that he might cut to the chase faster.

“Speaking of brothers,” Isis decided to help him along. “I wanted to apologize all week for Marik answering the phone and telling you off. I had thought you would call another time, my brothers were with me you see, they came to spend a week in KL with me on their way to Domino. “

“Nhm,” Seto’s voice then regained the haughty condescension she was used to. “It really was a waste of my time.” It felt somewhat comforting to hear he was more or less doing alright. 

“Yes, understandably. Remember how I said my brothers are unaware, it appears they still are. My brothers, especially Marik, are quite protective, you see.” 

“That’s pretty obvious. Speaking of which...table-man?” His voice was still rough but she could almost hear him smirking. “Please tell me you didn’t think of that.” 

“Ah..well, my siblings...we have nicknames for other people in our lives.”

“...and you clearly pitied me. You didn’t even mention that you saw.” Seto’s voice was noticeably less amused. 

“Well, not pity. More empathy. I didn’t think you would be charmed on our date if I brought up what was clearly a moment to comfort your brother. I noticed the two coming out under the table.” 

_Huh._

“If it’s any consolation, Marik thinks table-man is quite the gentleman,” Isis offered. 

“Yeah, especially since he wines and dines you better than I do.” 

Isis smiled, “you know he would have been more civil had you not started the phone call like you did.” 

Seto scoffed, “your interview wasn’t exactly doing me any favours.” 

It took a while to piece together what he meant, “oh you mean _that_ interview.” She remembered how the article, although anonymous, wasn’t exactly giving him glowing reviews. “To be honest I think they were just surprised that a visible brown person such as myself was 'making it' so to speak. But I am used to it. They often range from condescending to uncomfortably exotifying.” 

“Then why did you do it?” 

Isis made an amused sound. “My professional duty is to promote Egyptian antiquity throughout the world. It would be a bad PR move if someone other than my ministry didn’t pitch in." Her voice eased a bit, "and, to be even more honest, I was in a good mood from our date.” 

It was time to cut to the chase. 

“Isis, clear your schedule tomorrow evening.” 

“Are you suggesting we go on another date, Seto?” Isis was holding back a smile.

Seto already knew she wasn’t doing this for charity, but he had to know. “What made you want to ask me on a date in the first place?” 

“Well I got the sense you were trying to woo in your own way for a while and you didn’t seem to stop trying in KL. Yugi's grandpa asked me how the hieratic text translations went.” 

“No, even before that.”

“Well,” Isis said coyly, deciding it probably best not to tell him that she overheard a private conversation with him and his brother. “Perhaps I’ll tell you more about it on our date.” Isis’s smile grew wider when she heard him snicker. “Besides, I could ask you at the same time. What made you see me differently Seto? What made you call me right now?” 

“Perhaps I’ll tell you more tomorrow.” His voice was flat but Isis could hear the humour in it. 

“Seems we have reached an impasse. Guess the only solution is for us to go on another date, no? I do have a couple of suggestions.”

“Who said you get to decide?” 

Isis was taken aback, almost miffed and then she realized that this was Seto trying to say something and reach out to her in his own way. It was still belligerent, a bit condescending sure, but he was honestly taking his most transparent attempt yet. 

“What _we_ are going to do instead,” Seto continued, “is what I have in mind. I guarantee it will far exceed whatever subpar idea you had.” 

“Oh?” Isis replied flirtatiously, “I guess the great Seto Kaiba was never short on ambition.” _It wasn’t perfect but it is a start._ “You’ll have to pay for my ticket to go back to KL. You should know I have one week left of my post in KL and need to be back Monday noon.”

“You make it sound like I never follow through or don't have piles of cash around to fly you out there on a charter plane.” Seto lowered his voice, “ _you_ should know better.” 

A smirk. “Although, my brothers were supposed to see me off in the evening. They are staying back a week to explore parts of Japan. "

Seto growled in annoyance. “Your brother is a pain in the ass. He won’t exactly be thrilled to find out that we are hanging out. You’ll have to find some creative solution.”

Isis closed her eyes thinking of a solution until she found one so elegant and hilarious that she could barely hold back her laughter. 

“I have an idea in mind that would be fun to try. You might not be thrilled about it though.” 

"Humour me." 

* * *

“You’re going on a date with table-man tomorrow evening?” Marik repeated out loud. He yelled to Rishid who was at the coffee table overlooking their last-minute itinerary for their day trip tomorrow with a knowing “called it!” Rishid grunted but oddly didn't look up from the travel guide he was reading. 

Marik excitedly shook his hands, unable to contain his excitement for his dear sister. “Honestly Isis, I was shipping this as soon as Rishid shared that he caught your fancy. I was telling off Seto that he could learn something from him."

 _What a situation_

“We’re still trying things out. Early days. Who knows? We'll be negotiating some terms tomorrow at someplace that he assures is better than anything I could think of." 

"Hmm," Marik frowned, "a bit condescending but I'm going to assume it didn't sound like that when he said it to you." 

_Nope, it was exactly that._

"Yes, he is quite a...person. The point is that you don't need to drop me off at the airport. I've made alternative arrangements."

"Isis, how did you manage to move your tickets on such short notice?" Marik then paused and found an answer to his question himself. "He's giving you a pretty fine ride back, isn't he? Like charter plane type of fine?" He raised his eyebrows for emphasis when saying the phrase 'charter plane'. 

Isis coughed as demurely as she could.

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to look up gifts and snacks you would be able to bring in a plane. I can’t imagine it would be ideal to bring weak old baklava. So I thought Malaysian snacks:  
> Huat kueh aka fatt gao aka “prosperity cake” popular temple offering cup cake-like thing made from fermented rice flour with modern bakeries adding brown sugar. Lasts a very long time. Commonly eaten as a snack or after ceremonies among Chinese Malaysians.  
> Kuih bangkit: white tapioca cookies, eaten on Chinese New Year and Eid-el-Fitr (the Eid after Ramadan ends)  
> Achu murruku aka Kuih Ros: A delicate and crunchy rose shaped cookie made by Indian Malayasians by pouring sweetened batter with sesame seeds into a special mould. Also popular during Chinese New Year and Eid
> 
> -I also love the idea that Rishid is a bit of a mamabear. There’s this one panel in a English translation of a Korean trustshipping comic in which Seto and Isis have this small couple fight over the phone and the siblings are just in the background ignoring or observing it. Rishid is bringing out dinner, carrying this pot with oven glows in an adorable frilly apron. Considering that he was treated as the family’s servant by his shitty step-dad for decades, he probably has a greater handle on domestic life skills than his siblings do. In my headcanon, he enjoys unwinding from his high octane life with Marik by gardening and cooking. He would be the type of person to know how to select and wrap omiyagi, gifts for your hosts.  
> https://trustshipping.wordpress.com/2018/03/22/heart-knitting/
> 
> -the German board games mentioned here are all real and look quite fun. Boardgame culture in Europe is very different from the ones in the US market. Go to any board game shop or board game cafe and you will see the amazing diversity of games that go beyond monopoly. 
> 
> -Beer in Japan comes in a variety of alcohol levels, the lower levels are seen in beverages called happoshu and happosei. These compared to drinks with higher alcohol content are taxed lower. The drinking age in Japan is 20. In Egypt and the US it is 21. 
> 
> -I had to look up multiverse/parallel universe theories for the angst! Kaiba bits. There are basically three main ones (although there is a fourth one now): 1. There are parallel dimensions/planes of existence that are extensions of space. 2) There are parallel universes with different laws and constants in bubbles 3. There are parallel universes in which every iteration of an action creatives an alternative universe, therefore we have different versions of ourselves at these branch points. This last one is based on quantum mechanics which is based on probabilities. Yes, I made Seto Kaiba angst with theoretical physics. 
> 
> -Strong relationships require us to sustain ourselves with other types of bonds to make the romantic bonds we have sustainable and flourish. I think Seto honestly needs friends and of course, Yugi is the perfect candidate for this to be good to best friends. There’s this really great Esther Perel quote about how we expect in modern love our partners to be our best friend, best sexual and emotional partner. Not that this is a bad thing of course, but more of a comment on how we need other types of bonds to strengthen our romantic connections. Diversity makes our lives more verdant. I was also thinking that part of Seto’s growth is trying to expand beyond Mokuba for emotional support.


	13. ~Plating the Prodigality of Seto Kaiba~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two intertwining tales: a dinner and an urban misadventure. Isis and Seto discuss what's next over an exquisite Japanese meal, and Seto makes new discoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Towards the end of September, fueled by the confidence of writing this indulgent fanfic for almost a year, I decided to challenge myself to write an original 19 000 word novella over five days. This chapter is more than half of that word count and a good chunk of it was written in the past two days. It didn't really click until I found a picture of a menu that was better than anything I could have possibly made up. You'll see what I mean. 
> 
> This is all to say that this is a very long chapter because originally I had planned it to be two separate chapters. However on their own they were missing oomph. Having said that, this is probably one of my favourite chapters yet. It’s got a bit of everything. 
> 
> Each chapter feels like a labour of love that drains me for a couple of weeks. Sometimes I am constantly amazed that I end up publishing another chapter lol (trustship love too strong)
> 
> I've discovered that half the work that goes into writing a novel/extensive narrative is meticulous story and character planning before even attempting a first draft (at least for me).

Isis was surprised to receive a detailed email with meticulous instructions for her evening rendezvous with Seto. It was rather unorthodox for Kaiba Corp’s Chief Global Strategist to contact her concerning his boss's personal life, especially given the lengths Seto had gone through to keep Isono in the dark. 

During her ride to the rendezvous, she did look forward to the evening with growing eagerness; she didn’t know what to expect. One rarely does when dealing with Seto Kaiba.

She was driven to a tall building in a very posh part of town and then taken up the elevator to a level that required a keycard. She finally arrived at her destination: a private waiting room at the entrance of a ritzy restaurant. As she waited, observing the small room’s restrained yet luxurious décor, she noticed a glass covered enclosure with stuffed owls perched on wooden branches. Isis was even more bewildered when she realized that the two owls were indeed alive as one of them slowly turned its head to gaze at her eerily. When the maître d' returned, she led Isis inside the restaurant to the main dining room which seated forty people. She took a seat at a table where Seto already sat.

Exchanging mutually unrelenting gazes, Seto and Isis sat face to face in what she presumed was Domino City’s finest restaurant. Isis, who didn’t foresee her weekend trip to Japan to include a fancy dinner, impoverished formal wear by jazzing up one of her cream dresses with a turquoise silk scarf and deep red lipstick that she was glad she accidentally left in her bag from a previous trip. Seto stood out against the dark minimalist décor in his white suit, blue tie and his icy blue stare. 

“This is quite the place…” Isis began still processing the owls in the waiting room.

“Mhm,” Seto smirked arrogantly. “It’s the best three Michelin Star restaurant in the city. I’m assuming I can spare you the explanation of what kaiseki is.” 

A waiter came in and presented them with large engraved black envelopes which contained the evening’s menu. Isis read it and was surprised to find it in English, printed on thick textured paper with the pretentious title _“ ~Plating the Prodigality of Japanese Nature~_ ”. While she read over the names of each dish, Isis heard Seto ask the waiter for the sommelier's recommendations, a wine and sake pairing for each dish. The waiter came back with a bottle of sparkling wine from a prefecture Isis didn’t recognize. The waiter skillfully decanted the liquid into glasses while another waitress presented an open wooden box of chopsticks stylishly packaged in sleek coloured rectangular boxes. The whole display looked like an elegant Japanese rainbow. The waitress informed them that the chopsticks were souvenirs to keep. 

Seto tapped his chin thoughtfully ( _maybe because there was no blue?_ ) before picking the bold violet box. Isis opted for mustard yellow seeing no green. The waiting staff then took their leave. 

Behind Seto was an immaculate ink drawing of a white Japanese dragon ( _was this intentional?_ ) floating ( _or drowning?_ ) amongst the clouds in a vast sea of blackness. The spotlight from the ceiling angled just so to define the sharp planes of his face. While Isis was unsure what to expect this evening, one thing was for certain: he meant serious business. Despite there being other occupied tables of livelier patrons adjacent to them, Seto managed to monopolize her attention.

With a wry smile she teased, “certainly leaves an _impression_.” 

Seto made an annoyed sound, he didn’t need to be reminded of a previous misfire. Not now. 

“Spare me. I’m not out here to get participation trophies, Isis.” He narrowed his determined blue eyes, “I’m here to win.” 

_He really gets off making everything a competition doesn’t he?_

_Although…_

_I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy this._

“Fair enough,” Isis picked up her champagne flute nonchalantly swirling the fizzy pale liquid. “I won’t go easy on you. I’ll be scrutinizing every morsel.”

The waiter came to present the first dish.

* * *

_Phone_

  
After the call with Isis ended, Seto realized he felt good, not just good but on a high. He had just had a cathartic conversation with Yugi and then a promising call with Isis. Sure he had initially planned on ghosting Isis for extremely petty reasons. But the circumstances had changed. Atem was long gone and while that still hurt, Isis was here. He wasn’t so sure what exactly this all meant, but he got the sense that he should take this opportunity by its horns and make something new out of it. 

Honestly this time. And not out of convoluted spite. 

But what does one do for a second date? Especially since he practically insulted Isis with a promise to impress her. He had never found himself in this position before, closer than ever to the possibility of having a relationship with a person scratch an itch that Atem unknowingly did. The crucial difference here of course being the feelings were closer to mutual. He wanted to get closer to Isis. And Seto Kaiba never failed to deliver. 

And he didn't plan to. 

The first idea that came to mind was to take her out to the finest restaurant that his money could by, which of course meant his options were endless. Ever a follower of efficiency, he took fifteen minutes to patch together a few lines of code that would compile a list of all the best fine dinning establishments in Domino, use voice AI to call, look for openings and then book a reservation. He had tested it to automate other things in the past so he was extremely confident that the code would work. Seto pressed execute, got out from his seat, stretched, got himself a drink, walked around his study and then sat back down again ten minutes later. To his horror the program found zero openings. Seto then frantically tampered with the AI's script to make sure it name dropped his name but he still got nothing. He got desperate enough to call the restaurants themselves and all of them said they were unable to provide an opening for tomorrow evening, some offered an opening for Monday evening instead. 

_This might be harder than I thought._

No matter, he just had to think outside the box. Fancy restaurants were cliched anyways. He could always think of other amazing date ideas. 

The problem was of course that he was quite green in this area. It was far from his comfort zone. He furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms in his chair. Normally he had Mokuba around to solicit indirect advice on what one does in situations like these. Not that his brother had a solid record to make his romantic advice reliable. However, the shaky advice he got from Mokuba, which included wooing with grand gestures, ultimately did lead to Isis seeing him differently somehow. Maybe there was some substance to Mokuba’s manga level understanding of romance. 

_Huh._

That was it! He had access to Mokuba’s manga collection! He didn’t expect such an unassuming treasure trove to come to his aid at the eleventh hour. Seto laughed to himself, almost maniacally as he disabled the cameras leading up to Mokuba’s library. If there was one thing Seto was good at, it was his aptitude for learning and applying things he found in books. Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. 

* * *

_I._

_~ Beginning with a variety of Sensations…~: Seasonality, Aroma, Temperature, Texture and Assemblage_

_1a._

_Sea Urchin, New Fresh Ginger and Green Peas_

“It’s an unexpected combination,” Isis commented as she finished her sea urchin wrapped in nori, shiso and fried rice paper placed on a green pea purée. She looked up to see Seto observing her carefully. Isis continued, “who knew the rich sea urchin went well with the earthiness of the peas ?”

Though delayed, a corner of his lips turned into a haughty smirk. “Like I said on the phone yesterday: far exceed whatever subpar idea you had in mind.”

“Careful, my appraisal is far from complete,” Isis playfully warned. “It’s only the first dish. The rest is yet to be determined.”

“You’ve finally ditched determinism, I see,” Seto observed. “No more of that fate nonsense.” 

“So we agree,” Isis smirked into her glass, “we’ve yet to see how this meal ends.” 

“Very funny,” Seto said, taking a sip of his sake. 

* * *

_Manga_

  
For the first time that day, Seto remembered that his brother was a lovelorn fourteen year old boy far more in touch with his romantic side than he was. What was worse was that the bastard rich-kid characters Seto identified with utterly failed in impressing the heroine with sensational grand gestures and just ended up alone and burned. It was put an uncomfortably close looking glass on his past behaviours and suggested a bleak outcome for his current efforts. 

_I don’t want to lose. Not when I’m actually trying this time._

Seto needed to impress a sophisticated lady such as Isis. He remembered what Mokuba said: “wooing worldly women required worldly grand gestures. It needs to leave an impression.” And while it did seem to backfire on Mokuba spectacularly in his recent attempts, he did manage to initially succeed by getting a signed first edition of a beloved book. Money and resources were no object to him, but he barely knew Isis to know what to give her. 

He needed to find romances with actual adults in them. 

Seto scanned Mokuba’s vast manga library through its database but was disappointed to not find any. This of course made perfect sense. Mokuba wouldn’t have the older stuff Seto was more likely to relate to because he was only fourteen. If he wanted guidance to romance an older woman, he needed to get his hands on some josei. 

He could simply ask the staff to order him some manga from the city but then his staff and by extension Mokuba would know too much. And if Mokuba’s amiable personality was anything to go by, it all increases the risk that Marik might put two and two together and decide to interfere before he and Isis could even meet up again. Plus, he wanted to leave as little evidence as possible and a crate full of josei wasn’t exactly subtle. 

_I guess I have no choice but to do things myself._

* * *

_I._

_~ Beginning with a variety of Sensations…~: Seasonality, Aroma, Temperature, Texture and Assemblage_

_1b._

_Grilled Firefly Squid and Ending Yuzu Citrus_

  
  


As she chewed on the squid with its citrusy kick towards the end, it occurred to Isis that she had heard of this place before. Or rather, she had heard other people praising the exclusivity of the restaurant.

“Establishments such as these usually have quite the long waiting list. Were you planning on asking me months in advance, Seto?“ Her voice was flat, but he had spent enough time with her in the past couple of months to know she was half teasing him. 

“Please, I got these reservations last night,” Seto scoffed as he placed his chopsticks down. “What made you think I didn’t have the powers to wine and dine you wherever and whenever I wanted.” 

“According to the restaurant rules Isono sent me, you couldn’t have possibly Kaiba-ed your way in.”

The long list of rules for all guests included a prohibition on perfume and photography. It also explicitly stated that bookings could only be done during specific booking periods four months in advance. It clearly stated in a polite Japanese way to not insult the restaurant and expect to be able to buy reservations at a premium on a short notice or assume they would bump off someone else’s reservation at a price.

“Plus,” Isis added “A colleague of mine tried to book a table to discuss volatile Etiopian-Egyptian Nile river politics. World peace couldn’t persuade the restaurant to give them a table on short notice.” 

Seto smirked but said nothing. 

Isis has to admit, there was something comforting yet exciting in his arrogance when it didn’t involve the fate of the world. It was nice to be able to put her blind trust into capable and confident hands. 

* * *

_Bike_

Not quite feeling like himself without his iconic coat and signature accessories, Seto headed to his car garage in a black turtleneck, a pair of deep amber tinted sunglasses, Mokuba’s Domino City Dragons baseball cap and his leather pants. For an extra measure, he resigned to wear a jean jacket Mokuba had gotten him from America that he had refused to wear because it didn’t have the dramatic silhouette of his other coats. 

Seto had turned off the security cameras in his garage and used voice recognition to unlock the garage entrance before walking through his vast and underused car collection. _Hmm...should probably avoid speaking, people might recognize the voice._ The limos and the black cars were obviously ruled out because they weren’t exactly inconspicuous. The district he was headed to was notoriously crowded on a Saturday, there would hardly be space for parking. This also ruled out the sleek red convertible he impulsively bought from America a year ago. Seto eventually found the perfect vehicle for the occasion: a motorcycle. While he hadn’t ridden one in a long time, having bought it during a time he considered a possible motorcycle phase, it provided the flexibility he needed right now. 

Pulling on a helmet and the keys off the rack, Seto started up the motorcycle. He heard a promising rumble of the engine before it let out a hacking cough and turned back off. He twisted the handle a couple more times before sighing in defeat. While he could have easily called the in house mechanic to fix this, his current getup would be hard to explain. Reluctantly, he pulled out a repair kit from the shelf, removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. 

Honestly, the things he was doing for Isis.

* * *

II.

_~ Owan soup: Philosophy on the Ichiban Dashi ~: Taste of the Wind that Captures a Moment_

_Bamboo Shoot Dumpling, Simmered Hamaguri Clam in a dashi made of Kurakakoi Konbu, Shaved Bonito Flakes, Spring Flavours and Mount Fuji water._

Isis chuckled to herself after the waiter had left them to their dumpling and seafood soup. Seto looked up to see what was so humorous. Isis noticed his reaction and clarified. 

“Not saying this isn’t delicious and that I don’t appreciate the gastronomic artistry behind this, but the part where he said the broth was made with Mount Fuji water was quite…well _prodigal_.” 

“Well yeah. It said so on the tin,” Seto alluded to the title of the menu. 

“You certainly developed the tastes of your high upbringing for sure.” 

Seto beamed arrogantly, “do you admit defeat?” 

Isis frowned, “no, more just a general comment on how we have different metrics of taste.” Isis played with the dumpling in her soup with her spoon, “I think there is beauty in simplicity and accessibility. Or perhaps I’m easily impressed because of my sheltered upbringing. We do come from very different worlds after all. You weren’t too thrilled with my more rustic choices in Malaysia.”

Seto paused and brought his soup spoon back down into his bowl as he watched her play with the food. 

“I..” Seto began which made Isis look back up at him. “I actually did enjoy Malaysia.”

They looked at each other, both a bit surprised that he said it out loud.

* * *

_City_

  
After temporarily disabling even more cameras, Seto slowly rolled out of the garage and into the back alley of Domino City. He had given most of the staff, especially the security staff the rest of the day off. He tapped on the side of his helmet to bring up a holographic map projected onto his vizor and drove towards a marked destination.

He didn’t need to see the gaudy district gates to know that he was already in a less manicured part of town. Teenagers, free from the tyranny of Saturday classes, were enthusiastically reclaiming their short-lived freedom before the next school year started in April. They seemed to congress in small crowds around the arcades, cafes and trendy shops, carelessly having the time of their lives with friends. As he drove slowly through the narrow streets to the bookshop his helmet had pinpointed for him, he discerned teenage couples going on dates.

_I was their age once._

It occurred to Seto that he was barely older than them. But he could hardly relate to them. He had burdens, responsibilities and a drive to prove everyone wrong. Seto, of course, was far from sentimental about his twisted teenagehood.

Although, he could not deny that most people in the many high schools he attended probably had more experience in romance than he did.

(To be honest he wasn’t so sure why he did the long con of attending so many in the hopes to scope out rare cards from fellow teenagers when he barely used many of the cards now. He could have easily gone to Pegasus, his business partner and negotiated access to rare cards as part of the deal.)

He used to deride his classmates for focusing on such trivial matters of the heart. Why do something so fleeting and temporary when you could be spending the time building an expansive gaming empire? But now, he was beginning to suspect that there was some wisdom in getting experience while your peers had similarly low standards and expectations in romance. 

* * *

III.

_~Sashimi: A Message from The Coast of Japan~_

_Richness of the Sea, Tidal Current_

_Grace of Ocean Delicacy Displayed in 7 plates_

_Bonito, Abalone, Turbot, Monkfish Liver, Spiny Lobster, Sea Cucumber, Amaebi Shrimp_

Isis chewed on one of the seven types of fish beautifully cut and presented on seven mini plates on a larger plate. The scene looked like lily pads but of the sea. 

“I noticed something yesterday at the party,” Isis started, “the Japanese palette has a fondness for, oh what’s the word in English, _slimy_ textures.” 

“Ngh.” Seto never really thought about the texture of his food but the word slimy in English didn’t exactly seem appetizing. 

“Really. I asked why everyone enjoyed the konnyaku gel that was in the oden,” Isis noticed Seto’s face wince in pain briefly at the mention of oden. “It was cooked in the broth but still very tasteless. I asked and they all said they enjoyed the texture more than the flavour. ” 

“I’m beginning to see what you mean,” Seto admitted. “There is a word for this neba-neba-chan…”

“Is that an anime character?” Isis asked innocently. Isis swore she saw a flash of terror on his face but his face was stoic as ever.

“I misspoke,” Seto cooly corrected, “it’s just neba-neba. It’s a word to describe “slimy” foods. Which is actually a good thing for most Japanese people” Seto shared the fact as if he was a bit irritated with his countrymen. 

“Are there other words like that? I heard fuwa-fuwa, puru-puru and mochi-mochi recently,” Isis recalled some of the boys at the party either describing food textures or anime waifus. She still wasn’t so sure which one it was. 

“They all describe food textures. Light and fluffy, gelatin like wobbliness, chewy and starchy respectably, “ Seto explained while picking up a cross section of monkfish liver. “The monkfish liver is quite nice.” 

It occurred to Isis, as the delicate yet creamy monkfish liver melted in her mouth, that she already knew what his food preferences were long before she actually met him. But she had to keep a pretense. 

“What kind of food do you like, Seto?“

“You mean you to tell me that the necklace didn’t magically reveal this to you?” Seto was being fictitious but only partly. 

Isis smiled. “Come now, Seto. Mystery is the spice of any relationship. Even if it did tell me, it isn’t exactly charming to reveal something like that on a second date.” 

“It’s more of a tenth date type deal?” he joked. 

“Something like that,” Isis chuckled.

* * *

_Shelf_

For the sake of anonymity, Seto chose to shop at a small but well stocked manga store. He was surrounded by tall walls of stuffed bookshelves and he carefully maneuvered the tight space littered with other patrons. It occurred to Seto that a Saturday late afternoon was not the ideal time to expect that his access to the josei manga would not be complicated by other women blocking his way. What was worse was that the longer he awkwardly stood to get access, the more he was bringing attention to himself. 

“Ah young man!” 

Seto turned towards the voice and was shocked to see a stout elderly middle-aged woman wearing a shocking purple perm, sandals and a blue apron that barely covered the garish cheetah patterned long sleeved shirt with a cheetah’s face printed on the front. She had a name tag that read “Etsuko”. 

“Young man, young man! You seem to be lost. Are you looking for something specifically?” For an old woman she commanded quite the presence that outdid her tiny height. 

“Actually I—” Seto stopped himself, seeing a few of the girls nearby lift their heads from the manga they were reading briefly. He was afraid that his voice might be more familiar than he thought especially in Domino. He did appear on the local stations a lot. 

“Ma, ma,” the oba-san looked at Seto with a devious smile, playfully tapping on his arm. “Don’t be shy, young man. I know what you’re really here for,” she wiggled her eyebrows for emphasis and Seto felt quite uncomfortable. “You’re a man of culture.” 

Partly because he didn’t want to make a scene, partly because the woman physically pushed him with a surprising amount of strength, he ended up following her to another part of the store before he could object. 

* * *

IV.

_~Binchotan~_

_The Powerful Scent of Charcoal grills..._

_Karasumi and Grilled Kinki Fish stuffed with Eggplant_

As Isis tasted the rich and salty karasumi, cured mullet roe pouch, she was reminded of a trip she took with her university friends to Port Said, Egypt.

“We have something similar like this back home. It’s called batarekh. In English it's called bottarga.”

“Mhm, I’ve tried bottarga actually. There’s a place in Rome which Mokuba and I go to, that uses Sicilian bottarga to make a pasta dish.” 

Isis wondered if she should share that the Pharaoh hated batarekh despite being a culinary delicacy appropriate for his high status. It would be a fun fact to share with Seto, he might get a chuckle out of it. 

But she wanted the dinner to be just the two of them without unwelcomed ghosts. 

* * *

_Trap_

He quickly discovered that the oba-san was an oba-tarian: a middle-aged woman who never took no for an answer. 

He also quickly discovered that the phrase “man of culture” was a euphemism for horny pervert. 

The unique combination of both discoveries led him to a situation in which he stared at the ecchi section of the manga store which was unusually empty of people except for himself and a chatty presumptuous middle-aged woman looking over his shoulder. 

“Now, don’t be a shy young man,” she playfully tapped his arm again, “I may be a lady but I know what handsome young men like you like. We’ve recently expanded our selection to draw more young men. You see Hanako and I…” 

_What is happening?_

“Hanako and I always dreamed of having this store. We’ve been friends forever since middle school you see. Then she married some old bastard that croaked on her two years and used his money to buy this bookstore. I was telling Himiko...oh wait I didn’t explain who Himiko was!” She laughed and affected being embarrassed. “How foolish, so Himiko you see…”

_Why am I here listening to this nonsense?_

Seto opened his mouth to speak but the woman had the gall to literally shush him with a finger to his mouth. 

“Ma, ma, at least wait let me tell you about Himiko! You see Himiko has a son who is so sheltered—” 

“Ara? Etsuko-chan you found a customer?” To Seto’s horror, another oba-san dressed in a zebra print entered the space. She turned to the disguised Seto, “welcome! I hope you like the collection we have here. Make sure to tell your friends! We don’t kink shame here so we made sure to have everything! You see Himiko wanted…” 

_When will this stop?_

“Hanako-chan!” the purple haired woman interrupted her co-worker, “You have to explain who Himiko is or it won’t make sense! Remember how your nephew’s friends’s cousin’s babysitter’s brother snuck us into that branding seminar at the Kaiba Corp Shareholders’s meeting a few weeks back? It’s all about the storytelling!”

_I don’t know which traitor let these two into my branding seminar, but I am going to find them and make them pay !!_

“Ah, so wise Etsuko-chan,” the zebra woman said. “This is why you are my _best-friend_. Did you tell him about how we were friends in middle school and about your awful late husband?”

Seto rubbed his temples to alleviate his massive headache. He had to decide now. 

Seto’s great dilemma: he could potentially out rank them by pulling of his glasses and hat to reveal that he is Seto fucking Kaiba or he could just swallow his pride, pick random volumes of manga and leave the presence of these vile women. And while he was inclined to the former, he didn’t want to end up in the local ward newspaper with a photo from the CCTV cameras and two very obstinate eye-witnesses to corroborate that the great Seto Kaiba stopped by to buy soft-core porn…

* * *

_IV._

_~Grace of the Hometown~_

_As Ambassador of Kagawa’s Heritage…_

_Firewood Olive Sanuki Beef on Stoneware in Sukiyaki style with Young Yam and Poached Egg_

“Now this,” Seto declared thoroughly satisfied, “is a true work of art.” 

“Really?” This was the first time, in this evening of gastronomic excellence, that “I have high tastes” Seto Kaiba had expressed such adulation towards a specific meal. 

The waiter had explained that the thinly sliced pieces of grilled wagyu simmering in a sweet and savoury gravy was a special type of beef from the chef’s hometown. The Olive Sanuki wagyu was meat cut from cattle raised in a prefecture famous for its olive groves and thus fattened with cakes made from pressed olives. 

Isis, not particularly a fan of meaty dishes, took a generous sip of her Japanese red wine. 

“Well, I can see why a lover of fillet mignon with foie gras sauce would be fond of this.” The words came out of her mouth before she had the chance to bite her tongue. 

“Isis, you’ve revealed your hand prematurely.” Seto was enjoying the beef too much for this to ruin his mood. “Now why exactly would a necklace tell you that?” 

Isis sheepishly admitted, “to be honest there are things that the necklace revealed that I’m not sure why it did so to this day. I once was so busy predicting the future that I almost missed the blimp ride to the Battle City semifinals.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the beef. Maybe it was both, but Seto let out a boisterous laugh that made Isis...happy? Even if it was at her expense. 

“Seriously Isis, I’m glad you trashed the necklace. Hell, I would even buy you a new one.” 

* * *

_Kink_

Seto had to admit, the manga store oba-sans may have been thorns on his side, but they really knew what they were doing. After he made a desperate attempt to buy something as quickly as possible, the two immediately stopped him and asked him questions. They guided Seto for fifteen minutes, really understanding what kind of thing he was looking for (“err... rivals!...belligerent sexual tension?...fearplay?...possibly BDSM?”) and quickly tailor made recommendations. He was so relaxed by the end of it, he almost paid with this credit card instead of cash. 

He skimmed through one of the two books he had on a street bench and found out he really liked what they curated for him. 

_But I need to focus!_

As great as the manga was, he needed genuine second date ideas that would really impress her. And if Macau was any indication, he wouldn't just throw his money at the problem. He needed solid research. 

Seto, thinking that a women’s magazine might provide some clues, headed to the nearest konbini magazine rack. 

* * *

VI.

_~The Country of Rice-plants~_

_Pleasure of eating of the same trencher,_

_Simmered rice flavoured with ❀ Sakura “Cherry Blossom” tea and Sakura Shrimp from Surugawan Bay_

  
  


The sakura inspired flavours of the rice made Isis lament at a hanami party that could have been. 

“As lovely as it was seeing everyone yesterday, I do admit that it would have been nice to picnic among the cherry blossoms.” Isis took a small bite and then said, “though perhaps next year. Although it might be livelier next year since everyone will be old enough to drink alcohol.” 

It then occurred to Isis that Seto, a nineteen year old, was drinking alcohol this whole evening like it was water. He certainly seemed to handle it well. But that just brought out more questions. Everyone in the world, certainly Domino knew he was under the age to drink legally. 

“Seto, how come they never suggested you take the tea pairing when you’re still nineteen?”

Seto simply sipped on the fruity sake before giving the most straightforward answer he could.

“Because I’m Seto Kaiba.” 

A beat. 

“...fair enough.”

* * *

_Konbini_

  
Seto quickly found out that not all the dating advice articles in the women's magazine were relevant. Certainly not to him. 

_“1000 Japanese women list top 10 romantic scenarios by which they’d like to meet new boyfriend”._ _Won’t help me now. And I’m dealing with an eccentric Egyptian._

 _“32 Signs that means you are falling in love.”_ _Too early for that._

_"Ladies, compliment a man's intellect by calling him Socrates!" ...Why would I want to be called a dead Ancient Greek guy?_

Seto did however get lost in an article about going "exclusive". The term was new to him but what he gathered from it was that before one decides to become an item, there is a trial period with transparent goals and expectations. 

Was it too early for him and Isis to have this conversation tomorrow? It did feel a bit strange after he tried to blow her off for a while. Maybe he jus—

“Oh man my brain hurts from playing all those games Yug brought for us to play.” 

Seto recognized that voice.

_Oh no._

“What too much time with your beloved Fuwa-Fuwa-chan?” 

“Marik! I said I would start training for the next Duel Monsters tournament after I get her good ending.”

_Please no._

“Yeah, don’t let my brother hear you say that Jonouchi. That’s exactly the type of thing he would insult you for.”

_Fuck. Me._

To Seto’s horror Mokuba, Marik and Jonouchi had just walked into the convenience store. The very konbini Seto was disguised in a pair of sunglasses, his brother’s baseball cap and a denim jacket his brother had bought for him. It didn’t help that he was taller than the average Japanese man either. He technically could just exit the store, except that the three last people he wanted to be caught by were hovering near the entrance of the small space. He literally wanted the ground to swallow him up now. 

With the ground not giving him what he wanted he compromised and hide his face with an open copy of _CanCam._

“Ah Moneybags can suck it.” 

_Watch it you mutt._

“Speaking of which, you guys buy the drinks. I heard this month's issue of _Dengeki G_ includes a pinup poster of Fuwa-Fuwa-chan!” 

_Oh hell no!_

“Jonouchi, you dumbass! The only reason we came here is to buy the alcohol for the others. We’re all under 20 remember?” 

“Oh yeah! My bad!”

_I can’t believe I am saying this. Thank you Marik._

“But, let me just quickly check. It shouldn’t take too long!” 

_Stay the hell away!_

“Wait! You got it wrong, this month’s _Dengeki G_ contains a pinup of Neba-Neba-chan.” 

_Why...and how does my brother know that?_

“I got my assistant to call the magazine’s editor this morning. Apparently they are going to be releasing a Puri Puri Love Time artbook next month with lots of pinup posters.” 

Seto was surprised enough to peek slightly over the top of the magazine to confirm if it was indeed Mokuba, his little brother who read shoujo manga and obsessed over Capsule Monsters, openly admitting that he enjoyed playing waifu games. _He’s never mentioned this to me before._

“Fine, let’s just get the drinks then.” 

As the three walked away from the entrance, Seto immediately placed the magazine back in its rack and sprinted for the door. But he accidentally bumped into a muscular figure just as tall as him. 

Seto found himself, an inch from Rishid’s face. He almost had a heart attack staring into one of Isis’s brothers directly in the eye. If Rishid recognized Kaiba he didn’t act like he did, he simply apologized and walked across the store to where the other three were, preoccupied with the drink cooler’s offerings. 

Seto could not have left the store faster. 

* * *

_VII._

_~ Lusciousness Final Feast ~_

_Coolness, Warmth, Playful Spirits, Nostalgia and Temptation_

_7a._

_Strawberry wrapped in “Mochi Blanket”_

  
  
The dish was a simple frozen strawberry which gave way generously to a fork, revealing a warm oozing red custard. It tasted absolutely sensational. 

Seto looked at her with a knowing grin. 

“My sweet tooth is showing again isn’t it?” 

“That and the fact I’ve clearly won,” he triumphantly announced. 

Isis nodded her head, “you’re right. You’ve won. I’m blown away. Well done you.”

A pregnant pause as they continued nosh. 

Seto felt a bit deflated. Much like the time he beat her in Battle City despite her blabbering about fate, the victory felt underwhelming. 

Well he won. That was the point wasn’t it? That’s why he had foolishly did all the things he did the day before. 

“Isis, what is the end goal for all this?”

“You tell me, Seto. It was to prove that my choices were subpar, no?”

“No. Not that. I mean, all of this. I don’t even know you started to ask me out in the first place.”

Isis looked at him a bit puzzled. For the second time that night he surprised her. It reminded her of that night in Macau. 

She wondered how she didn’t see the signs: Seto Kaiba was a secret romantic 

* * *

Game

  
Out of desperation and masochistic curiosity, Seto copied Mokuba’s copy of Puri Puri Love Time onto his computer. He found it easily and made sure to place it exactly as he found it while almost contemplating giving Mokuba a talk on not hiding things under the bed like an amateur. He sat at the desk in his private study attached to his room and began to play the game:

***+*+~Puri-Puri Love Time~*+*+**

**_‘My name is Arrata Itamae and I joined this high school for elite cooking students to become a Master Chef like my brother, so we can one day scoff at the relatives who abandoned us and stole all our money when our parents died…_ **

_…._

**_I spent time with Fuwa Fuwa-chan and felt a little bit closer...._**

**_“Arrata-kun, thank you for helping me with my apron...you’re always so dependable, nee~_ ** **_❤_ ** **_”_ **

**_She was teasing me of course. She was probably still mad about yesterday’s recipe disaster, where I added too much baking soda and ruined Fuwa-Fuwa-chan’s brioche and made it less fuwa-fuwa, less light and fluffy. But I suppose this was her way of forgiving me. But her sister Mochi-Mochi-chan always bounced back faster and with so much more substance._ **

_…._

**“See how it moves? My grandpa named me after our family’s legendary pudding! “**

**As Puru-Puru-chan danced with custard pudding in hand to demonstrate, I couldn’t help staring somewhere else entirely.**

_…._

**_As we laid on the beach at night, Neba-Neba-chan’s breath got faster, the blush on her face somehow more noticable in the moonlight_ **

**_“Arrata-kun?”_ **

**_“Y-yes?” I know what she was asking of me but I needed to hear her say it honestly._ **

**_She positioned her upper body, her prolific chest squashed together like melons in her revealing white bikini top._ **

**_“Be honest, you love my seaweed salad don’t you. It’s too...”_ **

_**“Neba-Neba. But I enjoy that food texture! It's beautiful, just like your beautiful name!”** _

**_“Oh Arrata-kun, take me! Take me now—_ **

“Mr. Kaiba!” 

Seto, like a child trying to hide something he wasn’t supposed to watch, immediately slammed his laptop shut and was surprised to see Isono standing by the entrance to his study. 

* * *

_VIII._

_~ Lusciousness Final Feast ~_

_Coolness, Warmth, Playful Spirits, Nostalgia and Temptation_

_7b._

_Oryzae “National Fungus” Pride of Japan_

_“Hot” and “Cold” Sake Sweet Flavours_

“Seto, if I’m honest,” Isis straightened her back in her chair and put down the pearl spoon she used to eat a sweet souffle like cake; she was ready to get candid. “I’ve come to discover quite a few things about myself this past year since...well you know. “ Seto nodded his head. “One of the most surprising things I’ve discovered about myself is that I can’t stand the company of most of my family.” 

Seto furrowed his eyebrows not knowing where this was going but he could relate to it so well. It’s not like he was sending New Year wishes to his extended family, adopted and blood-related. 

“I also discovered that I don’t _have_ to interact with them. I learned that there is nothing wrong with putting boundaries with family. But at the same time, the younger generation gives me hope. I can’t abandon them. Because I know what traumatized children are capable of. It’s probably the thesis of most of our troubles in the past three years.” 

Considering what he did pre-Mind Crush and what dark-Marik and dark-Bakura did in general, she certainly was not wrong.

“I also discovered that my greatest fear is to be stuck in a relationship I can’t get out of.”

“Isis,” Seto scoffed, “we’re not stuck in an underground bunker together for eternity here.” 

Isis got his drift, they could leave whenever they wanted. 

“The thing is Seto,” Isis began with a solemn smile. ”I'm quite fond of you. But I don’t know you. At least, not as well as I would like.”

Seto scoffed, “you knew enough about my food preferences.”

“Yes, but I mean more than that. Would we be good together? I would like to think yes, but we both come with a lot of baggage. I go to regular therapy and still have things that affect how I see things for the rest of my life in the same way your past in this life makes you who are now.” 

Seto was getting a sinking feeling this conversation was heading south.

“Isis, what are you trying to say?” Seto’s voice was verging on angry. Was all this just a waste of his time? Was he being used by her?

“What I’m trying to say is, I want to take us seriously but only when we are ready.” 

Seto was less angry but still annoyed, “what does that even mean?” 

“It means, I care about you and I know what you’re like. I can imagine that if things go sour between us, the probability of which increases the less time we take with this, we might not be kind to each other in the aftermath.”

Seto countered sarcastically, “strong disagree, but okay.” Yes he may be petty but he knew how to respect boundaries. He had better things to do in his day. 

“Seto, you blocked me for a week because you felt insulted by my magazine interview. Yes Marik didn’t help, but I heard you were ready to tell me off. That seems extremely volatile.” 

“No you’ve got it wrong,” Seto lowered his voice, face tense with anguished lines. “I thought you were pitying me this whole time.” He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his bangs, “I’ve been trying in the past months to get you to see me differently and it never seemed to work. After the biggest failure I decided I better give up since I'm Seto fucking Kaiba and I have a company to run. And then, you all of a sudden turn up at my shareholder’s meeting with Pegasus and ask me out! I found out that everyone knew what I felt about Atem long before I even understood what it was! My only conclusion was, you asked me out to pity me.” Seto’s voice sounded particularly acrid towards the end. 

“Seto listen to me,” Isis said seriously, her voice getting gradually louder. “I would _never_ pity you. Not when it came to that. I know what it’s like to have such a life changing event happen and feel lost because of it.” Isis’s face showed confliction, “sometimes I still feel that. I stupidly yearn for existential simplicity. But then I remember I don’t have to be stuck in toxic family relationships like my parents were. Both of my brothers’ mental health is the best it has ever been because of the freedom we have! And despite this I still find it all difficult to navigate some days and wish I still had a an obvious grander purpose in life.” 

"How is any of this relevant to me?" Seto demanded. 

Isis took a deep breath to regain her composure. Seto's piercing blue eyes bored into her. 

“Seto, I don’t pity you," Isis's voice was now much gentler yet vulnerable. "I just genuinely care for you. And…” Isis smiled a bit sheepishly, “you’ve shown me in the months we’ve interacted that you might be what I’m looking for in my life right now, in my shinning yet uncertain future. And I spend time with you not because I have to, but because I want to. Not for some prophecy, duty, ancient tribe laws, or because my family said so. But because I want to.”

“What are you trying to say, Isis?” Seto asked quietly.

“What I’m saying is that even I find destiny and fate tiresome sometimes,” Isis gave a small smile. “I want us to get to know each other more. Taking our time, testing out all the kinks before we seriously commit.” 

“So...like being exclusive? “ Seto remembered reading an article about this in the convenience store.

“Yes,” Isis nodded. “So that we know if we should just be friends or something more.”

Seto knew that moment he wanted something more.

“How long?” Seto could not believe the wrong turns in his misadventure yesterday would come to his aid. “It’s good to establish a mutually agreed upon timeline and goals and expectations.” 

Isis was almost impressed that Seto was asking such important questions. 

“You’re right. How about three months? In that time we make an effort to meet up or talk as often as we can to get to know each other.” Isis giggled, “so that I am more of a good friend to you rather than a nonsense woman you have to deal with.” 

Seto made an amused sound. 

“I assume there are no others.” Seto, like a good businessman, he wanted everything on the table. 

“No, just you. Although since it is a trial period I would like to not let Marik know. He won’t do anything harmful but it is not for him to judge if we’re a good fit, this is for us to see if we are.” 

“I agree.” Seto did not want to deal with Marik like that again. Not when he was figuring things out. He raised his wine glass towards her, “to three months then?” 

Isis smiled and clinked their drinks together. 

“To three months.” 

* * *

_Call_

“Mr. Kaiba? Are you ok?” 

Seto took a moment to recalibrate himself back to more of a CEO of large megacorporation and less of a of a teenager almost being caught consuming a pornographic video game. He was still recovering from the idea that he learned far too much about a side of his baby brother he was not emotionally ready to acknowledge. 

“Isono!” Seto barked at his right hand man, “what is the meaning of this?”

“Apologies, sir! We got notifications that a significant portion of the security camera system was turned down. The garage, the back food entrance, and parts of the house leading to your and Mokuba’s room.” 

“Well yes,” Seto said, very impatiently. “I was playing with the systems, testing out some new codes. You know that only I have access to the security protocol. No one else in the world would ever be able to alter it!” 

“It’s not that, Mr. Kaiba,” Isono said, skirting on pleading. “Since you sent most of the staff home today, Mokuba asked me to keep an eye on you while he was gone. Just in case.” 

Seto narrowed his eyes, “what do you mean just in case?” 

“Mr. Mokuba requested I be on standby in case you do something...harmful to yourself. Especially today.” 

Realization hit Kaiba like an ugly car crash. Mokuba and Isono were concerned he might try to irreversibly join Atem in the afterlife. Turning off the cameras, especially the ones around the private quarters would naturally raise alarms especially since Seto was the only one capable of doing it. In an alternative universe he was desperate enough to turn to this kind of end. 

Seto said nothing for a while, trying to quell his shock as he combed a hand through his bangs and took a few deep breaths. 

In a less caustic tone, “apologies, Isono. Something like that wasn’t even the closest thing on my mind this evening.” 

“Is everything alright, Mr. Kaiba?” Isono’s voice was a bit more gentle, encouraging Seto to drop their rigid hierarchies for a second. 

Seto sighed, “yeah everything’s alright.” 

It occurred to Seto that Isono was an adult who presumably had first hand romantic experience. 

“Isono, this is probably a strange thing for me to ask but...are you married?” Seto and Isono had always maintained professional lines. He never asked about Isono’s personal life because he didn't care to know.

Isono was even surprised to be asked and cautiously answered, “...yes. I have a wife.” 

“Where, ” Seto could not believe he was asking this. “Where did you take her on a...date,” the word felt foreign in his mouth, “to _really_ impress her? To say win a bet to outdo someone’s date choices in oh say...Kuala Lumpur.”

Isono processed what he had heard from his teenage employer and almost chuckled in disbelief before deftly turning it into an affected cough. 

“Mr. Kaiba,” Isono carefully clarified, “are you...are you asking me for dating advice?” 

“Hypothetically,” Seto quickly added. “I was doing some...market research.” Seto knew Isono was smart enough to see through his ruse, but the ruse was really for Seto’s comfort. 

Isono cleared his throat, “yes. Makes sense. Good plan of action, sir. As you know, it really helps to know more about the target audience. Would the target market be, say a young Madame Secretary General?” Isono swiftly added, “hypothetically?”

“Something like that, yes.” 

“Well,” Isono took a breath, “the typical thing to do is a fancy restaurant, but that might be a bit cliché if savvy is not used to pick the right kind of restaurant.” 

“It’s tomorrow evening, Isono,” said a defeated Seto, dropping pretense. “ I even used my reservation AI and no luck. Apparently you have to book at least a month in advance if you're lucky. Besides,” Seto crossed his arms defensively “like you said restaurants are a bit too cliché. I need to impress with something grander. I promised I would.” 

Isono listened patiently and nodded his head. 

“You’re looking at this the wrong way, Mr. Kaiba. It’s not so much about execution as much as it is about intent. Sometimes it's all about the quality of the company.” Isono pulled out his cellphone from his suit pocket. “Tomorrow evening, you say?” 

* * *

_IX._

_~Sincerely for You…~_

_Matcha Tea_

  
  
The meal ended with a smooth cup of fine matcha tea. Seto settled the enormous bill with the relaxed ease of a billionaire. They took their chopstick and complimentary bottle of Mount Fuji water and exited the restaurant into a sleekly decorated hallway with an uninterrupted panorama of the Domino City lights. Seto took his cellphone and tapped a few buttons before replacing it back into a pocket. 

Isis was about to head down the corridor to the elevators but was stopped. 

“Isis, if you plan on reaching KL tomorrow morning, taking the car to the airport is the wrong answer.” Seto adjusted his tie mindlessly. “You’ll be dropped off at the airport to take a chartered plan, of course. Your luggage is already on board as detailed in the email.”

Isis raised an eyebrow, a bit amused, “a helicopter is our only option?” 

“There’s a helipad on the top of this building,” Seto continued, not answering her question. “They’re waiting for us.”

He took her hand and led her to a hidden elevator in the opposite direction that went directly to the helipad. 

The elevator, unlit and made of large glass panes, gradually transported the two with a stunning view of Domino at night. It humorously reminded Isis of the long awkward ride up the Kaiba tower after she had scolded him for not taking a part in his destiny. The stark difference here being she had just gone on her second date with Kaiba and he was holding her hand. 

Seto heard her chuckle and turned his head to look down at her but was caught off guard by what she was staring at. She looked up at him to see his surprised face, a slight flush barely visible in the dark that she was sure mirrored her own. They turned to look out into the large assemblage of lights getting tinier and tinier yet coalescing into familiar shapes, and mutually gave their interconnected hands a hopeful squeeze. 

* * *

On the following Monday morning after Isono concluded a briefing on departmental updates, Isono paused right before he was about to exit Seto's office. 

“Forgive me for prying into personal affairs Mr. Kaiba, but.” Isono put his sunglasses on, “how was the restaurant?” 

Seto swiveled around in his chair to look through the windows, facing the vast Domino dayscape. The large back of his dominating leather chair served as a thick fortress wall.

“It was...productive.” 

“That’s great to hear, sir.” Isono sounded relieved and was about to open the door to leave. But he was stopped. 

“Isono!” Seto shouted, his chair still facing his employee. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“How do you and your wife feel about Catalonian food?” 

“We’re huge fans, sir.” Isono was a bit puzzled by the unusual question. 

“Good.” Without turning around, Seto reached a hand out to press a buzzer on his desk. 

“Ms. Obuchi, please forward Isono the reservation for two at El Bulli this month. He has my permission to add extra vacation days and also make sure to cover the flight and hotels.” 

“Yes, Mr. Kaiba,” chimed the intercom. 

Isono was taken aback.

“Mr. Kaiba, t-that’s very generous of you!” 

Seto turned around to look at Isono briefly before turning back to face the windows again. 

“Mhm.”

Isono took a formal salaryman bow and walked away but was stopped again. 

“Isono, one more thing.” A pause. “Thanks for offering your reservations for Ryugin last night.” 

Isono smiled, almost like a proud father having seen his son take a major milestone into adulthood.

“Of course, Mr. Kaiba. I’m glad the negotiations went well.” 

A pregnant pause. 

“Mokuba...doesn’t know right?” 

“No. It was not my place to tell him. Seemed like you needed space to figure things out on your own.” 

Seto turned to look at him for a good minute, carefully studying his employee’s body language. He then turned towards the window.

“Thanks.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve only been a trustshipper since July/August 2019 and it all started because I scammed myself into accidentally reading a fanfic. Here’s how it happened:
> 
> Last summer, inspired by the abridged series and wanting to depression watch something familiar, I ended up watching all of the True Work of Art that is the 4kids dub on Netflix.
> 
> I loved every moment of it. 
> 
> I turned to fanfics to process my feels but was ship agnostic. I was looking through the peachship tag on here to find some good post series yugi-tachi fics, shamelessly only looking at the ones with a decent kudo count. I then clicked on one, not reading the summary or the tags, and ended up tricking myself into reading an AU trustship fic. The fic of course was JustAWritingAmateur’s magnum opus: Roses and Thorns. I stayed up all night reading this MAGNIFICENT fanfic and by the morning I had converted from “this is new, but convince me” to “I've heard the word of god!”. Before this it had never even occurred to me that they could be shipped together.
> 
> In summary, I became a trustshipper by complete accident.
> 
> I'd like to shout out the many amazing trustship writers who do this pairing justice, even if all of our takes are so different. The nuances that they draw out are so believable and make my heart swoon for this ship and inspire my own take on this pairing. I'd also like to shout out another active trustship fanfic on fanfiction.net: The Token’s 10-10-2-Do-Me. It’s a modern trustshipping AU if it were an entertaining, lovingly wish-fulfilling, sexy as hell CW show. I didn’t grow up watching CW shows (because I was a pretentious teenager) and even I enjoy it quite a bit. 
> 
> Chapter notes: 
> 
> -Japanese cuisine has many genres within itself, the most popular being the sushi-centric omakase. Kaiseki is another genre of Japanese cooking which is very high-brow/haute cuisine and consists of many carefully designed dishes. Technically omakase (lit “I trust you”) is more of menu order rather than a genre in which the chef will use their discretion to create fresh and dynamic meals based on the reactions of the guest. In the west they tend to be synonymous with sushi but technically they can refer to any type of food.  
> https://foodicles.com/omakase-vs-kaiseki/
> 
> -The restaurant and meals are based on an actual three michelin star kaiseki chain called Ryugin. Among many things, the restaurant is famous for having a long list of rules for the guest. The menu is as pretentious as it sounds on here, including a dashi course with water from Mount Fuji. Literally for the most part copied other people’s photos of the menu. Life is more anime and entertaining than fiction.I had to dig to find a spring menu because the initial ones had summer and fall ingredients. But because this takes place at the end of March, I had to hunt for an end of March menu. This is the level of detail I am obsessed with for a fanfic lol.  
> If you want to know what the setting of this chapter looks like:  
> https://www.dailymail.co.uk/travel/travel_news/article-4108844/No-shorts-no-phones-no-perfume-restaurant-list-rules-bigger-menu-etiquette-expert-William-Hanson-explains-eateries-follow-lead.html  
> -I based the meal mostly off of this menu: https://www.foodnut.com/50058/nihonryori-ryugin-tokyo/
> 
> -El Bulli, a Spanish three Michelin star restaurant until is closure in the early 2010s, was considered the best restaurant in the world. 
> 
> -Japanese has these really cute repetitive onomatopoeias to describe the taste and texture of food. What started as a joke to find what puri-puri even meant before I used it in my fake ecchi game, ended with me finding this article listing all of the Japanese descriptions for food that followed the repetitive format. And thus a fake food based ecchi game was born.  
> :  
> https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/64802/15-japanese-food-onomatopoeias#:~:text=puri%2Dpuri,describe%20a%20young%20girl's%20cheeks
> 
> -People still depended on printed media twenty years ago, so it made sense that Seto would go try to find books and magazines for this kind of thing. Websites in the early 2000s were absolutely hideous and limited in what you could do with it.  
> -CanCam is a women’s fashion magazine popular among university women. Dengeki G is a gaming magazine focusing on bishoujo games like the fake game here
> 
> -Etsuko the oba-tarian is directly lifted from a hilarious NPC character from the Yakuza series. Most cultures in the world refer to older women as aunties, in Japanese it is oba-san. I know a lot of my white friends get confused that people call non-family older people as aunties/uncles. I love the concept of older women just living their life and not giving a fuck. I made the oba-sans in this chapter queer, sex-positive and have great business acumen because I know great older women like this. 
> 
> -konbini = Japanese convenience store


	14. Shoes and Perfume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isis and Seto are on different continents. While work adds even more distance, they find a way to connect in the end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not updating as monthly as I had initially planned. Life things got in the way and was feeling a bit burnt out from writing. I tinkered with this chapter a lot over the months while trying to motivate myself into getting back into the groove. I wanted to just publish this to get it done rather than overwork it. Thank you for all the kind comments and kudos. It's a great confidence booster and makes me want to keep writing these two together.

“I’m a bit surprised,” Isis began as she looked out at the sprawling lights of Domino at night through the window of the luxurious helicopter. “How come we don’t need to wear headphones like in the movies?” 

After their prodigal meal, Isis had to admit that a flight in a fancy helicopter was a nice way to end the night of surprises. 

“Because most helicopters skimp on soundproofing to save fuel. I do whatever I want.” Seto realized that the last time he let anyone in this helicopter, besides his brother or his staff, was during Battle City with Atem. Isis luckily interrupted him before he could dwell on this further.

“Seto, I am constantly amazed at how many ways you find to say my opulence makes a nonsense of norms and regulations.” 

Seto made an amused sound but didn’t say anything. 

“I was supposed to leave KL this Friday,” Isis continued. “But I plan on leaving earlier. So I’m not so sure if we can do Malaysia again this week.” 

“Mhm.” Seto shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t plan on going to Malaysia either this week so we can rule that out.” 

“I would say the week after,” Isis eyes scanned as if she was reading an imaginary schedule. “But...I’ll be preoccupied with family and work things in Egypt that week,” she frowned. 

“I have a release coming up next week, so that will occupy a lot of my time.” Seto crossed his arms. It was a standard software update release for the new Duel Disks. His team of software engineers had it more than handled, but he didn’t want to come off as too eager just yet. 

They spent a few more minutes offering suggestions on how they could meet within the next two weeks but encountered even more hurdles. 

“Hmm.. at this rate we might find ourselves unable to meet for a while,” Isis frowned. “ Getting to Domino takes 18 hours or so from Egypt.” 

He _had_ to make time for her. He _wanted_ to make time for her. 

“You’re forgetting who you're talking to here, Isis.” Seto gave Isis an arrogant grin. “I have a Blue-Eyes White Dragon jet that goes at five times the speed of a commercial aircraft. It took me less than half a day to fly to Egypt with an eyeball.” 

“You’re not suggesting I get myself one, are you?” Isis deadpanned. 

“Not quite. Though get a pilot's license just in case.” He mirrored her delivery. 

* * *

“Did...something good happen recently?” 

Even as Seto read the newspaper at the breakfast table, he found himself lingering on yesterday’s dinner. Sometimes he found himself remembering her smile and replaying and analyzing what he said to elicit it. Sometimes he felt the warmth of her smaller but surprisingly rough-textured palm in his. 

In the brightness of his large breakfast room, the intimate nocturnal world of less than twelve hours ago seemed so surreal. He placed his newspaper down, abandoning pretense as he looked out at the large French windows onto the pristine kitchen garden that a few members of the house staff were maintaining. 

“Big brother?” Mokuba looked genuinely concerned.

Seto deduced that he must have been gazing out the window for longer than he thought. Mokuba was now at the table with a maid beside him, whipping fresh raw eggs with a small machine. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to his little brother since he was mostly out spending time with the reunion party over the weekend. Mokuba came back Saturday night wanting to gush about how fun it was seeing everyone but Seto turned in early, exhausted from his urban escapade. He didn’t get time to chat with Mokuba on Sunday either as he rushed off to go on a day trip presumably with the same company. 

“What?” Seto began to drink his coffee as if he hadn’t gone on a date with a woman he last told Mokuba that he never wanted to see again. 

“It’s just you seem...less tense,” Mokuba observed. “Well, less tense than you were on the day of the reunion party.” 

“Ngh. Let’s eat.” Seto shrugged his shoulders and then dug into his freshly prepared breakfast. It was a fancier version of tamago kake gohan: a bright yellow egg yolk on top of a pool of whipped egg white, all scooped onto warm rice and garnished with shoyu, green onion, furikake with fresh vegetable pickles on the side. He heard Mokuba hum in satisfaction at his first bite. 

“Wah! These eggs are so fuwa-fuwa-chan!” 

Seto saw the same brief shock of horror on Mokuba’s face, like the one he wore when he made a similar slip last evening. 

“I mean, fuwa-fuwa.” Mokuba tried to laugh it off. “Not sure who Fuwa-Fuwa-chan is. Mixing the egg whites with the electric mixer really makes the eggs light and fluffy.”

“Yes, it’s slightly less...neba-neba.” He remembered Isis’s gastronomic observation about Japanese food textures. 

“Although...” Mokuba replied nonchalantly. “I think the traditional way is good too. I really do like neba-neba.”

_I bet you do._

Seto felt strange that his brother, a boy who was always an open book to him, was capable of having interests that he didn’t even mention to Seto. Not that Seto shared all of Mokuba’s interests and hobbies or even that he ever wanted to talk to Mokuba about mildly pornographic anime waifu games. This was just another reminder of Mokuba’s age and the insidious change in their relationship. 

“Rebecca thinks it's strange that Japanese cuisine is so fond of such a food texture. The English word slimy sounds so gross.” Mokuba shuddered. 

_“I noticed something at the party yesterday...”_

“I know,” said Seto curtly. 

_“The Japanese palette has a fondness for, oh what’s the word in English, slimy textures.”_

“It’s a shame you weren’t at the party, Seto. There was so much delicious home-cooked food.” Mokuba savoured another bite. 

_“Really. I asked why everyone enjoyed the konnyaku gel that was in the oden,”_

“You know how I feel about oden,” said Seto.

_“It was cooked in the broth but still very tasteless. I asked and they all said they enjoyed the texture more than the flavour. ”_

“Wait, how did you—? Oh! Yugi must have told you that when he called.” Mokuba paused for a moment and asked his brother cautiously. “Is that why you’re in such a good mood?” 

“Mokuba!” Seto declared suddenly. 

Mokuba almost jumped in his seat, “Y-yeah?”

“Clear your schedule this Friday. We’re going to Rome!” 

Mokuba knew his brother enough to know this was his way of thanking him for being right about connecting to Yugi. And for somehow connecting him to Yugi despite Seto’s stubbornness. Mokuba smiled and rushed to give his brother a warm hug which Seto with an affected reluctance accepted. 

Mokuba excitedly got out his PDA device and tapped away at it but stopped to ask for details. 

“Should I block in the whole weekend? 

“Actually, you should leave earlier without me. Might have to make a stop in Dubai on my way back.” 

“Dubai? What’s in Dubai?” 

* * *

Isis couldn’t decide whether she preferred the way the sandalwood or vanilla bloomed better on her skin. 

“Each fragrance is personal to our body,” explained the gray-bearded perfume merchant. “Different scents bloom differently on our skin so we need to explore what compliments our body’s natural chemistry well.” 

“I see,” replied Isis. 

It was her first time trying something like this. A friend of hers would spring into histrionics if she didn’t try getting a bespoke perfume while she was on a twelve-hour layover here. The small shop, found in a Dubai souk, had walls of small ornate glass containers holding scents from all over the globe. The shelves were trimmed with a graphic black tile that was both traditional yet modern. It was not unlike other boutique perfumeries in Dubai, where you could get high quality and customizable eau de parfum for a decent price.

“The Indian sandalwood is quite lovely.” 

The bearded man recognized something in what Isis said and turned behind him to reach for a few more glass bottles to place on the counter in front of her.

“Misria?” the man asked.

Isis looked up at him. 

“It’s my Arabic, isn’t it?” Isis supposed you could take a girl out of Egypt but you couldn’t take the Egypt out of her Arabic. “You’re Arabic doesn’t sound entirely Emirati either.” 

The man laughed, “You have a good ear. I’m actually a Keralite. My passion for perfumes and a better life for my family has led me to start this perfumery. Been doing this for thirty years now.”

“That’s impressive,” Isis said politely. 

“What can I say, the allure of oud is too enticing. No plans to slow down anytime soon. Although my children and grandchildren say I should slow down.” He laughed as he handed over a strip of a few more scents. “Try these.” 

“You seem to be enjoying yourself. Perhaps your children are enthusiastic, wanting to make this place their own.” Isis smelled the three scents. “I really like these.”

“Ah yes, that’s the Somalian frankincense and the Omani myrrh.” The old man replaced some of the perfume bottles back on the shelf and got out a few more from another set of shelves. “And no I don’t expect my children to inherit this place unless they absolutely want to.” 

Isis was a bit surprised and while her face didn’t change to indicate this, the perfumer sensed her apprehension. Smelled it, if you will. 

“Is that so unusual?” he asked. 

Isis gave a courteous smile. “In my family, it is incredibly selfish to not want to continue the family business. Many cultures believe in reincarnation,” Isis briefly paused and reflected on the strange fact that she and Seto are proof that reincarnation exists at least in special circumstances. “Procreation is a sort of reincarnation to some. Children are a way for parents—and their dreams and fears—to become something eternal.” 

“Mhm,” the old man nodded his head. “That’s quite philosophical, though there are real human consequences to this. Forgive me for being presumptuous, may I assume you are speaking from experience?” He prepared a dropper, taking oil from one of the tinier glass bottles. 

“You are not wrong,” Isis sighed as she opened her wrist to receive the oil drop. “I was fortunate in many ways for being born a girl. I was overlooked as an heir entirely while my brothers were in the spotlight, pushed to suffer a great deal for not living up to the standards of an ancient family legacy.” Isis rubbed her wrists together to warm up the scent. “We’re much better now that our archaic duties are fulfilled but old habits die hard.” 

“Your brothers are still clinging to the old ways?” The man raised an eyebrow a bit lost in the vague details.

“No, no. They’re more than fine. It’s the extended family.” Isis began to sniff her wrist. “To use your analogy, they still think they are perfumers even when grandfather sold the shop and told them to live their lives freely.” 

“That sounds like a difficult situation.” 

“On another note,” Isis wanted to change the subject entirely. “This is quite deep. I think I’ve been smelling this all morning.” It was an earthy, leathery yet spicy scent with great dept. Isis had smelled different flavors of this when entering different shops in the souk.

“As yes, it is oud. The Indian variety in fact. Smell this one here for comparison.” The old man gave Isis another strip. “It’s from Laos. Although we call this variety Cambodi.” 

“It has a nice fresh sweetness to it.” Isis compared the scent on her wrist to the scent of the strip. “The Laotian oud is much easier to wear on its own, I’d say.”

“Yes. Emiratis love their scent strong and musky. Oud on its own is lovely and lasts a long time. You unlock an even greater potential when you layer the scents.” The man picked up to examine the label of a few glass bottles. “It looks like you have a preference for more woody smells.” 

“If that is your way to say old fashioned then I suppose I do,” Isis smiled. She always did have a preference for more earthy notes. The floral and citrus scents of most women’s perfumes geared towards someone her age were entirely too bright for her subdued tastes. She wasn’t too fond of the one she had to hastily buy at duty-free before the reunion party for this very reason. “I usually just prefer something traditional like frankincense or myrrh.”

“We can certainly make something familiar.” The man began preparing a few beakers and funnel. 

_“What are you trying to say, Isis?”_

“Actually,” Isis stopped the perfumer before he started pouring a liquid from a glass bottle. “I’m in the market to add something new right now. Something unfamiliar.”

_“What I’m saying is that even I find destiny and fate tiresome sometimes.”_

“Entering a new chapter with something different?” asked the old man.

_“I assume there are no others?”_

“Yes, one could say that. However, some chapters flow like thick honey as opposed to water.” Isis sighed. “I was supposed to see someone during my twelve-hour layover. But unfortunately, they have to attend to some brewing storm of some kind at work.” She had seen bits of the news coverage at the airport about some sexist comments a Japanese government official had made. This with Seto’s sudden change in plans suggested that Kaiba Corp was somehow involved. 

“Surely you can meet another time?” The man reached for another glass bottle to add to his perfume mix. 

“Yes, indeed.” Isis smiled internally at remembering Seto’s boast about the speed of his dragon jet. “But it would have been a nice thing for me before I have to return home. We might not be able to see each other for a while.” Isis chuckled, “I’m probably being a bit dramatic.”

The old man stopped to observe her face for a moment before returning to mix the contents of a beaker. He poured the final fragrance into an elegant glass perfume bottle. 

“Try this. It might be what you need to both mark new beginnings and lift your spirits.” He patiently waited as Isis tried her new perfume before continuing. “It’s got rose, sandalwood, oud. And frankincense. Because some things take time and it is not a bad thing to hang on to the familiar when navigating something new and uncertain.” 

* * *

_“We would like to petition Japan’s Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare’s Equal Employment Opportunity Division to place dress code laws for the sake of gender equality. Why must women be forced by their employers to wear painful heel shoes to do their work? This isn’t a beauty pageant!”_

_As more women enter the workplace and choose a career over marriage and motherhood, more aspects of the nation’s work culture are being examined under a microscope. We interviewed the Ministry of Labour for his opinion on the matter._

_“If more young women want to enter the workplace they should stop being so disruptive. You think juggernauts like Kaiba Corp spend their time on such trivial matters? Besides, they should just get married, stay home and have children if they don’t like corporate culture. Japan’s population is declining for a reason..._

“What is this nonsense?” Seto’s Wednesday afternoon meeting was meant to be uneventful and last maybe fifteen minutes. “Why is NHK World covering a story about people protesting shoes?” He swiveled his desk chair away from the large flatscreen and faced Isono and Mokuba. “And why are you showing me this? It’s from last week.”

“A member of the communications team brought this up to me yesterday,” explained Mokuba. “I think we have a brewing storm on our hands.” 

“Apologies for interrupting, Mr. Mokuba,” said Isono. “But we already met with the communications team earlier this week and they did not mention this.” 

“I know, I was there,” said Mokuba. “But we really should have covered this. It’s getting some traction internationally. I mean NHK _World_ is covering it now. If it's out in English, other countries like America might cover it.” 

_Oh, I see._ Seto suspected Mokuba’s reason for holding this meeting might have been related to teenage hormones and his choice of company with either the almost princess or the child prodigy. 

“You didn’t answer my question, Mokuba.” Kaiba reminded his brother impatiently. They had a plane to catch in twenty minutes and Isono was far too busy to hop on the plane to Rome with them. “You didn’t give me a good answer." Why should I care about heel shoes and some government dinosaur.” 

“If we don’t make amends, _we’ll_ end up turning into dinosaurs!” Mokuba’s face tensed up.

Seto and Isono raised skeptical eyebrows. Mokuba sighed and then dropped copies of a ring-bound report onto Seto’s large desk. 

“The same employee in communications has been working on this report for some time,” said Mokuba. 

“If I may speak freely, sir,” started Isono as he barely flipped through all the pages of the report. “Why on earth are they talking about shoes in the first place?” Isono shook his head in disapproval. “All employees have a dress code. All corporate workplaces do. What next, the men are going to protest wearing a suit?”

Isono realized that his boss wasn’t wearing a suit and tie today.

“Mr. Kaiba, this doesn’t apply to you of course,” Isono quickly amended. “Besides. If I recall, all senior communications staff were sent on overseas training in America.” 

“Not all,” Mokuba corrected. “Some people were selected by the department head to stay behind.” 

“So these are opinions of the C-team?” Seto flipped through the book a bit irritated. While everyone hired to be at Kaiba corp was top-notch, he only had the patience to be dealing with the best of the best. 

“Well not really C-team,” Mokuba shook his head. “She’s been with us for a while and worked on a lot of important projects.” Mokuba turned to a page in the report and showed Isono and Kaiba. “Here’s a quote from an economics paper written published last year. One word: ‘womenomics’. The Minister’s comments might make us look really really bad. Especially since he keeps talking about how great Kaiba Corp all the time and then gave us those sweet tax breaks.”

Isono added, “Saved us billions. Helped us avoid taxes in America too.”

“Right?” Mokuba echoed. “We saved even more this year with Macau paying for our island.” 

“Mokuba,” Seto interrupted. “The sooner you learn to dismiss unqualified opinions, the more time you’ll have to enjoy chocolate parfaits in Rome.” 

Mokuba knitted his eyebrows, suddenly remembering the issue at hand.

“I’ve been making sure we’ve been changing things! Like more press passes to female journalists and—“ Mokuba shook his head to regain his composure after seeing how unmoved his audience was. “Seto, just think of the TIME magazine special. This report here predicts that if more people will be playing DM, then more girls will become duelists. We have to make some effort to reach out to them before one of our competitors does.” 

Something about this situation felt a bit deja vu. 

A woman was cautioning Kaiba with predictions and Mokuba was imploring him to listen to her. But the fate of the world was hardly at stake in this case. He paid his staff way too much to not delegate this to them.

“Isono, manage this while we're gone.” Seto turned to his relieved brother. “Mokuba, let's go to Rome.” 

* * *

Jet lag aside, returning to the Cairo groove always felt a bit strange, especially after a month of being on an entirely different continent. Isis supposed there was some romance in leaving home and not returning as the same person. Her new perfume was a reminder of this. 

Well, it wasn’t so much a radical change in character or outlook as much it was something to look forward to. A romantic beginning is always sure to put a spring in anyone’s step, even if it was on a groggy Monday morning. She had spent yesterday relishing the quiet respite of adjusting to Egypt alone in the house as her brothers were still on their way. She spent most of the day sleeping and quietly looking out at Rishid’s rooftop garden while sipping fresh mint tea. 

To think that a man who couldn’t care of what she thought of him a year ago would care so much now for them to start seeing each other. 

But alas, she had to go back to work.

For her first job, Isis spent early Monday morning calling some of her extended family. She lied to each one of them, apologizing for not calling them on Sunday because her delayed plane had just landed fifteen minutes ago. Not being technologically savvy or having the patience to call the airport for flight details, she knew they would not find out.

_“Cousin Omin is going to marry an outsider!”_

_“Lila and Murad are having trouble conceiving!”_

_“I don’t understand why he spends so much time with his new school friends. Are we not important? Is this the way to treat his blood?”_

She listened to them and made a few notes in her dedicated notebook. _Call cousin Omin in the evening and ask his side of the story. Talk to Lila and Murad and ask if they really want children. Call Yuf to give him better advice on how to hide his girlfriend from his parents._ Isis called her bank and told them to transfer money from her account to pay for the family’s school tuition, home construction projects, mortgages, and hospital bills. She promptly put the book away once the old pendulum clock rang out in the hallway.

It was time to go to her second job now. 

She arrived at her office expecting to find a large pile of paperwork and meetings. What she wasn’t expecting was her secretary to anxiously warn her that the Minister of Culture was stopping by that morning. 

“Always a pleasure to have my boss come visit me,” Isis greeted the Minister of Culture with cheek kisses. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Ines?” 

Isis prompted the plump middle-aged woman to take a seat by the coffee table in her room. 

“Why, I’m visiting a lovely mentee of mine,” Ines waved a hand. “I wanted to congratulate you on the success of the Malayasian exhibit. The higher-ups are quite pleased with the funds we’ve raised. We’re closer to meeting the project proposal deadlines for the big museum. The rest of the cabinet was thinking we might announce an architectural competition in a couple of years.”

“That’s great to hear!” Isis was genuinely looking forward to when the Grand Egyptian Museum would be a reality. “Speaking of Malaysia, had I known you were coming today I would have brought your gift with me.” 

“Pay it no mind,” assuaged the older woman. “If you must please forward it to my home address rather than to my office. I wanted to catch up but also forewarn you.” 

Isis sensed something ominous in her voice, “Is there a storm brewing?” 

Ines laughed, “Perhaps that’s one way of looking at it. I wanted to warn you, my dear, that I will be resigning from this post today. I have sent my formal resignation letter.” 

Isis dropped her glass of tea onto the expensive carpet. 

“You see,” Ines continued, “The Minister of Youth and Sports was a friend of mine. But turns out he got himself involved in some kind of scandal. You’ll probably read the news—”

“I am a bit of the loop,” Isis confessed. 

Ines waved her hand, “To be fair, you were traveling. But long story short, I resigned to save my political career in the long run.” 

“Your only option is to resign?” Isis asked as calmly as she could. 

“At the moment yes,” Ines sighed. “I’m not so sure who they’ll replace me with, but you have to understand that there are a few nepotistic vampires aiming to get the family involved.”

Ines eyed the photo of her and her brothers at an excavation site sitting on Isis’s desk. 

“You’re different of course,” she quickly amended. “But the point is that you might find yourself dealing with incompetence at worst, growing pains at best.”

Isis touched her neck, wishing for something familiar there. 

“Forgive me if I sound alarmed,” Isis began. “It’s just I have been rewarded handsomely in my professional and personal life for having your support.” 

Ines laughed, “That and you had a fortune-telling necklace.” 

“Indeed,” Isis returned a small smile. “I don’t think I would have gotten access to the resources or the time off to get my family back without your support.” Isis didn’t need to specify to Ines who she meant by family. “I was barely a shoe-in for this position but my necklace led me to you and your endorsement helped immensely.”

Ines nodded, “indeed I did. But you’ve always been quite resourceful and intelligent even without my help or the aid of magical jewelry. ” 

_“Seriously Isis, I’m glad you trashed the necklace. Hell, I would even buy you a new one.”_

“Honestly, I am always impressed that a young woman such as yourself has the presence to match even the most condescending of men,” admitted the older woman. 

“My brother says it’s a product of a rather sour upbringing.” Marik actually called it their resting bitch face. 

“Sure, but you underestimate yourself. I’ve read the magazine interview, Isis. One of the reasons we choose you for the position is to inject new blood into the preservation of our national heritage.”

“Well, I think Duel Monsters will do a faster job in that than I will be able to. Card games might have kicked off another Tutmania.” Isis remembered all the DM players who came to the Malayasian exhibit. 

“Exactly. Here is my parting advice as your boss, Isis. There might be a storm brewing but it is best to take stock of the networks and resources that can weather the storm. The world of card games included.” 

  
  


* * *

In an outdoor cafe in a small hidden Roman piazza, Mokuba regaled his older brother on the differences between Italian semifreddo and French parfait.

“The difference is how they incorporate the egg and what part of the egg they use. But are basically unchurned ice cream chilled in a mold and then cut to slices like a cake.” 

“Then what are we having now?” Seto asked. Their food didn’t resemble a frozen slice of ice cream cake. They ate a dessert made of layers of hazelnut, chocolate, and pistachio gelato decorated with nuts, Italian chocolates and biscuits, and fresh fruit.

“See that’s what we call parfait in Japan because it's based on American parfait which is more like a sundae.” Mokuba waved his spoon for emphasis. “We’re eating this here because the cafe is owned by Italian-Americans.” 

Seto realized it also explained the owners’ distinct New Jersey Italian accent. 

“I see.” Seto tucked his spoon into their shared desert. He wondered if Isis’s sweet tooth would appreciate this Italian-American creation. 

“I also learned that you should never mix up French and Italian food. _Very_ insulting for both nations apparently.” Mokuba almost cringed. “Speaking from experience.” 

“Let me guess, you embarrassed yourself in front of your classmates?” Seto deduced that no doubt an Italian and a French classmate made sure to let Mokuba know about his _faux pas_ , his _gaffe_. “I wonder what the almost-princess had to say,” Seto teased knowing that Mokuba was still trying to impress Keiko. 

Or so he thought. 

Mokuba’s face went blank and almost...guilty? 

“Seto, am I some fickle teenager for not wanting to impress Keiko anymore?”

_Yes._

But Seto saw Mokuba’s vulnerable eyes and shrugged his shoulders. 

“I actually just see her as a friend, you know,” explained Mokuba as he scratched the side of his face. Seto knew his brother’s nervous ticks enough to know Mokuba was still on the fence about this verdict. “She’s great and all but I sorta kinda maybe a little bit have someone else in mind?” 

_Great. My little brother is stuck in a love triangle._

“It’s the child prodigy.” Seto went in for a spoonful of the desert.

“Eh— hahaha! What makes you think that?” Mokuba tried very hard and failed miserably to keep a poker face. 

“You’ve only mentioned her name at least five times on the jet ride here.” Seto gave Mokuba an obvious look and shook his head as he took a bite of the desert. “You’re an open book Mokuba.”

“Really? Only five? I thought it might be more, actually.”Mokuba surprised himself. 

“You see my point? That and you’ve been unusually vocal about “feminine” perspectives. You usually get on your high horse when you’ve interacted with people that aren't me,” Seto said frankly. 

Mokuba smirked, “You say that like it's a bad thing. And it’s not feminine, it's _feminist_.” 

“You make it sound like we’re living in the dark ages, Mokuba. And I’m pretty sure you don’t even know what that means.”

“I admit I don’t entirely. But I’m learning to listen!” Mokuba said with conviction. “Rebecca was telling me about how people underestimate her. And then Keiko was talking about her mom’s friend who was petitioning to stop the whole heel shoes at work thing. And then Rebecca said how sexist it was for our work culture to have sexist rules like that. And then I was talking to Ms. Otsuki who was overlooked for promotions in the communications department—” 

“A word of advice Mokuba,” Seto sounded a bit irritated. “Don’t let your teenage hormones or friends give you business advice.” 

“But it’s not hormones, Seto!” Mokuba insisted. “It’s called listening. What if everyone thinks we hate women?”

“You know I hate everyone equally,” Seto deadpanned.

“Don’t you ever wonder if things would have been different for you if you were born a girl?”

Seto grew slightly aggravated, “I got here on my skills and hard work, Mokuba. Plain and simple. It’s hardly a feminist cause.” 

Mokuba shook his head trying to find another argument. 

“It’s just...when Rebecca was talking about how she’s often overlooked for accomplishments even though she is a child prodigy...I just get sad. It makes me want to do whatever I can to change the world because it’s so unfair. What else are we overlooking? Are we part of the problem?” 

Kaiba observed Mokuba’s knitted eyebrows and tense fisted hands. There were some things about Mokuba that would never change.

“It’s not your job to save everyone, Mokuba.” Kaiba’s voice softened. “Pick your battles, value your time, make money and amass power. Money and power talk because not everyone has it. The world is built that way. You and I know life is unfair.” 

“I suppose.” Mokuba felt a bit deflated. He felt like he wanted to draw some type of contradiction in Seto’s argument but he didn’t quite have the words or energy to point it out. 

  
  


* * *

Isis spent Tuesday morning remarkably more awake. She spread the newspaper across her desk engrossed in the details of a sports and youth revitalization project gone wrong. Millions embezzled, the blame game began. It made sense for Ines to make a noble exit to preserve her legacy, given the grimy details. Isis knew the only reason she was shielded from all this was because of the publicized success of the Malayasian exhibit. 

She turned the page to see Ines’s intended replacement. The photograph of a familiar man made Isis press fingers into her neck desperately praying for a vision that never came. 

“Ah, Ms. Ishtar!” 

Isis looked up to see her new boss in the flesh. He was a smartly dressed man, a decade older than Isis, with an irritating grin, entering her office and taking a seat on her desk. Hassina, her secretary was in the corridor apologizing for the unannounced visitor’s intrusion and her inability to stop him. 

Isis hardened her face and sat up in her chair, hands folded on her desk. 

“It’s _Dr._ Ishtar, Minister,” said Isis. She motioned to Hassina to keep the door open. “What do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Come now Isis, let’s drop the formalities. We are _well_ acquainted.” He reached out a hand attempting to take Isis’s. “Professor Salah says hello.”

Isis deftly moved her hand in time, her steely gaze unchanging. 

“Mr. Gamal, congrats on your appointment as the new Minister of Culture,” said Isis. “Is there anything I can help you out with today?” 

The man laughed and clapped his hands. “Is that the charm you used on others to get to the top Ms. Ishtar? Excuse me, Dr. Ishtar?” The mistake was intentional. He was doing everything in his gestures to make sure she knew her place. He once again reached out to touch her hand, but Isis leaned back in her chair. “Anyway, I am here to request the records of all active and inactive excavation sites.”

“Mr. Gamal,” she said coldly. “Handling excavation sites is within _my_ purview. I assure you they are doing just fine.”

Gamal looked Isis in the eye with a detached stare, “Oh Isis, you forget. _I_ am your boss. All you have to do is be a pretty-faced figurehead.”

“I’m far from a figurehead. You overestimate your authority.” Isis returned a stone-cold glare of her own. 

“You seem to misunderstand me, _Isis.”_ He leaned in closer, making sure to tower above her. “You know what figureheads lack? Power. I came in with my family connections so I’m not the one who is going to get axed if anything hypothetically goes wrong. You may have a clean slate now but any potential blemishes to your tenure why—“ the man stopped and gave her the slimiest predatory grin. “I can break or make your career.” 

Even though Isis gave him an iron wall look of her on, in her mind, she knew that a storm was just beginning. 

She desperately wished she had a necklace around her neck. 

* * *

“I guess I’ll see you when you get back from Dubai.” Mokuba looked deflated as he waved his brother goodbye in their private jet. 

“Nhm.” Seto sighed. This trip was meant to be for thanking Mokuba for not bringing him down. He didn’t want to go to Dubai knowing he left his brother in this state. The least he could do was listen to Mokuba complain.

“What else did Rebecca say?”

Mokuba’s eyes grew wide, “You...you genuinely want to know?” 

Seto crossed his arms, "You said it would hurt our bottom line. We wouldn't want our competitors to get ahead." 

"But you said so yourself, heel shoes don't make it-" 

But before Seto could reply, Isono appeared on the screen at the front of the plane’s cabin. 

“Sorry to interrupt, sirs. The Minister of Labour wants to speak with you in person immediately. As Mokuba predicted, the international media is making him a villain for his comments. And our company's image might be in hot water if we don't do something about it." 

Seto turned to Mokuba who looked at him earnestly. Seto knew what it was like to be young with new ideas. He knew the emotional scare of being belittled and exploited by adults for having them. 

"Mokuba, I'm all ears. What do you suggest?”

* * *

  
  


“Seto?” 

Isis was surprised to get a phone call from Seto on a Tuesday evening. She was at home, intensely studying documents splayed across the living room. Her jet-lagged siblings turned in early leaving her alone to pour over excavation site documents. Someone had rung the doorbell wearing a uniform with a Kaiba Corp logo to deliver her a package. 

She examined the white monogrammed box before neatly using a kitchen knife to open it. Isis was surprised to find a very expensive looking KC branded mobile phone. She spent a good few minutes turning the phone on all sides, trying to find an on switch. Immediately after she turned it on, she received an incoming call from Seto. 

“So you finally got the phone I sent you.” 

“Indeed. I must admit it is unexpected.” She had mentioned how expensive international calling was without using a prepaid card and a landline. 

“Ngh. We didn’t meet in Dubai.” 

Isis hummed, “Unfortunately, no. However—“ 

Isis was almost startled by the sound of Marik sleepily emerging from his room and walking towards the upstairs bathroom. She decided to relocate to the rooftop garden. 

“You might hear the sound of evening traffic in the distance,” Isis said as she climbed the terrace stairs. “My brothers and I live in a house, but we still live in the city.” She sat down on a patio chair taking in the view of the twilight sky. She could still make out the silhouettes of the pyramids in the distance. 

“Ngh.” Seto wasn’t so sure what to say about such a neutral statement. Many of their past conversations were usually more of a back and forth even without hostility. In a former life, he might have had an insult to hurl if he was in a foul mood. 

“It’s nice to be able to talk to you,” Isis confessed. “I’ve had a long past couple of days.” She placed her feet up on the chair and rubbed her tired eyes. “Sounds like we’ve both been busy. I saw the news...” 

“Was a simple fix really.” Seto was sure she could hear him shrugging. It was odd to have someone who wasn’t Mokuba say out loud that they liked and actively wanted to talk to him. _Has it really only been three months?_

“...You can talk about it if you would like,” Isis offered. 

“Not much to say. You’ve already seen the news.”

“I'd like to hear the Seto perspective.”

“It’s really not that different.” Maybe he was too exhausted but he decided to humour her. “Some women complained about shoes. An old man embarrassed himself by opening his mouth."

"I'm surprised people are actually taking it seriously." Isis sighed, "I encounter that kind of thing fairly regularly. I got told to be quiet and look pretty just this morning." She didn't hear Seto for a while and wondered if the phone lost power. "Seto? You still there?"

Seto gave out an audible yawn, "I'm here." 

“Seto, what time is it there?” It occurred to Isis that it was probably past his bedtime. 

“It’s fine,” his voice was particularly textured and worn-out. "Can I ask you a question?" 

"Of course." Isis was a bit surprised, _maybe sleep deprivation makes him kinder?_

"Are heel shoes painful to wear?" 

"I..I've," Isis was surprised to be consulted. "I've only really worn them once. I'm told by some you get used to it and it gets painful not to wear it..." She trailed off, expecting him to interrupt her at any moment. "They are admittedly quite elegant and feminine but not something I would wear all the time at work. Although, it's not mandated in my workplace if that is what you are asking." 

"Interesting," was Seto's only reply. 

“Anyways, I should let you know I’ll be away for the next couple of days. My new boss is trying to set me up for something and I have to do some diligent investigation out in the field." 

Seto gave a sardonic laugh, “It’s usually a sign of success when people have to resort to sabotage. I should know.” 

"Yes, I suppose." Isis looked off into the distant horizon. "You might have trouble reaching me. I'll be in very remote locations." 

“You really do forget who you are talking to. I sent you a solar-powered satellite phone for a reason. We can connect wherever and whenever. No need for ridiculous pre-paid cards.” 

“That certainly explains some of its appendages.” Isis lightly tapped the plastic-covered antenna jutting out from the top of the phone. “But you will be disappointed to know that I’ll be taking my brothers with me.” Isis curled her lips, “We could always have codenames and secret codes.”

“As long as it’s not table-man.” 

“I make no promises.”

They didn’t get a chance to meet in Dubai and they were time zones away. Maybe it was her new perfume or the balmy desert air, but Isis got the sense they were closer than they thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The art of perfumery is a cornerstone of Arabian Peninsula culture. You can get high-quality bespoke perfumes for a really good price. The shop and old man in this is inspired by a real person and shop I saw in a couple of youtube videos.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5WIu0FxpyPw&t=267s
> 
> -Misria is another word for Egyptian. I've mentioned this before by Egyptian Arabic is its own thing compared to the other Arabic dialects. 
> 
> -Oud is also a huge part of the culture. It is used in perfumes and wood chip incense and is a nostalgic smell for many in the Arabian Peninsula. It is used to scent the home or clothes before having guests or visiting relatives. In Asia, oud also has medicinal purposes. Oud, also spelled oudh, is made from agarwood that is infected by fungus. Not all infected agarwood came become oudh as not all trees create the antibacterial resin. Wild oud is very expensive as the appetite for high-quality oudh is growing in the West with more Western perfume makers Columbusing (aka "discovering") the scent and adding it to their perfumes. Oud is getting expensive as hell and the quality is just not as good (the longer it's infected, the richer the resin if it produces any at all). I've never smelt this, I just watched a lot of youtube videos about it lol. 
> 
> -I was trying to figure out what popular ancient Egyptian scents were. Isis's isolated family would have old-timey olfactory preferences. Frankincense, myrrh, olive oil were quite popular. Although apparently the myrrh used in ancient Egypt was from a different species and had a much more complex smell. Mummies were often buried with scents if you could afford it. 
> 
> -The whole bit about procreation being a form of reincarnation is from Revolutionary Girl Utena (my eternal love). Anthy shares this thought with Utena during the infamous egg episode. 
> 
> \- Speaking of egg, tamago kake gohan is Japanese comfort food. In Japan fresh eggs are prepared for consumption very differently than in the US hence safe to eat raw. Learned about this on youtube when a YouTuber used a machine to make the fancy fuwa fuwa version of this dish. 
> 
> -the takeaway here is that everything I learned I probably learned from a youtube video. Especially helps when you've never experienced the thing you want in your story, so you do experience by proxy. 
> 
> -Japanese women in 2019 rallied for a petition to convince the government to put laws that reduced employers' ability to mandate employee dress code. In corporate Japan, women are often mandated to wear high heels to work. As you can imagine, the old men in power are unsympathetic to the plight of women's feet or even open to the idea of making work culture less sexist in general. The hashtag used #KuToo , which is a portmanteau of #MeToo, kutsu (shoes) and kutsuu (pain). https://www.cbsnews.com/news/japan-high-heels-women-kutoo-movement-companies-corporate-rules-female-employees/
> 
> -Kathy Matsui a Golden Sachs Asia executive wrote a paper in 1999 that coined the term womenomics. Shinzo Abe about a decade ago adopted womenomics with mixed, negligible and some would even say disastrous results: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/09/13/world/asia/japan-women-abe.html
> 
> -I've read articles where Japanese politicians did say something outdated and sexist to their female colleagues (ie. I hope she gets married and has children soon etc..). I was reading this article about Yuka Ogata, a city politician getting chased out of the assembly hall by her male colleagues for bringing her seven-month-old after not being able to find suitable daycare in the year 2017. She talks about her experience and womenomics in general her:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrHiSgDvG_I
> 
> -I don't think Kaiba is cartoonishly misogynistic just more that he's never had to really think about it. Given his upbringing and who his adopted father is, he's never really had to. 
> 
> -in Japan and North America, parfait is basically a fancy layered ice cream sundae. In Japan, they've elevated this to an art form. In France, parfait is a layered frozen custard dessert that is molded into rectangles and then cut into slices. Semifreddo is the Italian cousin of French parfait. 
> 
> -Ines is named after the current Minister of Culture in Egypt. Before the creation of the Ministry of Antiquities and Tourism which absorbed the Supreme Council of Antiquities, the council was headed by a Secretary-General. The Secretary-General answered to the Minister of Culture. 
> 
> -I had more scenes in mind to explain some of the political things that were happening in both of their lives but decided to gloss over a lot of the details because well, this is a romance novel. It would be too abrupt of a change in tone if I didn't at least ease it in or made it relevant to the romance process.


End file.
